Christopher laughed. ‘Between you and me, I suspect Mr Peterson and Mr Patrick had tried it – just maybe not in the fashion described to you at school.’
‘Oh, I know that now! Funny though, isn’t it, the ideas you have then?’
‘It sure is. My mother told me if I swallowed chewing gum it would wrap around my intestines and I’d die. So when I did swallow some, by mistake, when I was coughing and laughing on a school coach, I couldn’t sleep for weeks from the worry. I was so certain I was heading for a grizzly end that I even wrote a goodbye note and stuffed it under my mattress for my parents to find. Or Isabel, of course – there were two of us, my parents did it twice!’ He laughed.
‘Eeuuw!’ Pru chuckled at the thought.
‘I hope no one is listening to us, they’d think we were mad.’
Pru sipped her chilled white wine spritzer. I feel mad as a box of frogs, giddy and happy and I love it!
With stomachs full of fish and chips, Pru and Chris walked along Cliff Road to South Sands, the beach at the mouth of the estuary. The beach was a fat U shape, with greenery and cliffs to either side. Small boats, windsurf boards and sails were clustered together in one section and the rest of the beach was dotted with sun worshippers and children, some hiding behind striped windbreaks and inside half-moon fabric sun huts, others intent on digging huge, pointless holes and trying to fill them with buckets of seawater.
They flopped down on to a patch of damp sand the colour of old tea and stretched out side by side.
‘What is it about this place, Chris? I feel like a different person, as if I leave all my worries and most of my heartache on the motorway.’
Chris propped himself up on his elbow. ‘I’m glad. It’s good to have a break from grief. Take it from one who knows.’ He tutted. ‘Gosh, listen to us! Enough maudlin reflection. Right, what can I tell you about me that you don’t already know?’ Pru raised her eyebrows but otherwise stayed stock still. ‘Oh yes, I love to garden, I probably drink too much wine, in fact there’s no probably about it. And I didn’t realise what my life was missing until I met you. Now I realise that there was a Pru-shaped gap in it that you have filled quite admirably!’
Pru turned towards him now; this required her full attention. ‘Were there any other Prus in the running?’
‘No, just the one and so you were almost guaranteed success.’
They lay there facing each other.
‘Has there been no one in your life since Ginny?’ She took a large gulp of air; she felt bold asking.
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘No, no one. It’s never really occurred to me to look. I know that sounds bonkers, but that’s just how it’s been. And then you popped up and, quite frankly, it’s floored me rather.’
‘In a good way?’ She wanted to hear his compliments, and the beach setting and their earlier flirtation gave her the confidence to ask for them.
‘Yes! In an incredible way. I feel rejuvenated and happy, despite what has happened over the last few weeks. I feel happy!’ He shook his head as though this was a feeling he had quite forgotten.
‘Do you… Do you miss Ginny as much now as you did, or has it lessened with time? If you don’t mind me asking.’
He dug at the damp sand with a discarded stick. ‘No, I don’t mind at all. I miss her less, yes, but the sadness, the tragedy of losing her remains the same. Although time has diluted that a little, made it more bearable.’
‘It’s a lovely testament to your wife that you miss her still and think about her.’ Pru fought back the spike of envy that shot through her system, silently chastising herself and knowing she would feel the same way about Bobby, forever.
He looked out to sea. ‘Ginny was sick for a very long time and to be truthful, when she died, it felt like something closer to relief. I hadn’t counted on the loneliness though. Having to eat lonely microwaved meals and scooting around the supermarket on my own of a weekend, it was all rather miserable. We always had a very full social life, and so it was horrible. It still is horrible in that respect.’
‘Surely your social life didn’t stop just because you were alone?’
‘No, it didn’t stop, but it changed things. Even good friends seemed to treat me differently when I turned up alone; I could sense an underlying embarrassment, as though they didn’t know quite what to do with me. Should they mention her, should they not? And acquaintances were very keen to invite spare extras: women from the Home Counties who wore too much lipstick, showed too much cleavage and who read the political columns for the first time en route to dinner, where they would offer a disjointed little insight. God, that sounds mean, but it’s true. I think these “spares” made my host feel more comfortable, but it certainly didn’t help me. It made me feel awkward and set up. So I stopped going out, pretty much, threw myself into my work!’
‘I’ve never been married, so I can’t imagine what that felt like. I understand the workaholic bit though; I’ve worked hard all my life.’ She felt awkward.
‘I can’t believe someone like you has never married. Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?’
Someone like you, someone like you… Pru replayed his words inside her head and concentrated on containing her smile. She mulled over her answer. I’ve never met anyone who wanted to marry me. Especially once they knew who I really was. ‘I suppose I never met anyone that I wanted to marry,’ she said. It was as close to the truth as she wanted to get.
Christopher looked at her and held her gaze. He delivered his words slowly. ‘Well, if that situation changes any time soon, you’ll let me know, won’t you?’
Pru felt her head spin as a swirl of excitement fluttered through her body. Her breath caught in her throat and her mouth was dry. So this is what it feels like.
‘I don’t know what’s happening to me, Christopher. I feel like a teenager!’ Pru considered the ache in her stomach as she dashed off to the park to snatch a few minutes with him, the agony of waiting for her phone to buzz and the euphoria when it did. She groped for the words with which to explain it. ‘It… it’s as if there is this whole other world that I didn’t know about. A world that’s been hidden behind a secret, locked door that no one told me about and even if they had, I didn’t have a key or know where to find one. And suddenly here I am stepping through it, at my age!’
Christopher threw the stick up into the dunes and gave her his full attention. ‘It’s called love, Pru.’
‘Is it?’ she whispered.
‘Yes. I think you might love me and I think I might love you and that’s pretty much all there is to it.’
He leant forward and kissed her full on the mouth. It was without awkwardness or embarrassment; it was as if they had been kissing forever. And once they had done it, they wanted to do it again and again! It was so lovely; she couldn’t begin to remember what her life was like before they had kissed.
As they reluctantly walked back to the car, Pru catalogued every small detail of the day, storing it away for dissection later – the way he had held her hand, sitting on the quayside, their incredible lunch in the pub and that kiss, oh, that kiss! She felt like she might burst. Strangely, even though they had moved their relationship forward, she also felt inexplicably shy, as if the openness had somehow exposed her, leaving her feeling more than a little vulnerable. Her joy, however, was tempered with something close to fear. How would things move forward? She wasn’t an innocent about to set up home for the first time with her beau, choosing toasters and lamps with matching cushions; she had a home, she lived with Milly. She had spent decades carving a life as an independent single woman – how did you begin to reverse that? And above all, she had a past, a past that lay buried in the deepest recesses of her mind. Which was where she wanted it to stay.
Christopher steered the car up the hill and Pru watched the harbour getting smaller and smaller behind them. ‘Oh Chris, I feel very muddled. I’m having the time of my life and yet it comes at a point when my heart is literally split in two over Bobby
. How can that be?’
Christopher seemed to have heard only one bit of the conversation. ‘Are you really having the time of your life?’
She nodded. ‘I really am.’
‘I am so glad because I am too and it would be terribly sad if it was all one-sided.’ He looked across at her. ‘I want to spoil you rotten, Pru!’
‘Well, if you insist…’
They both laughed and held hands over the centre console of the car, like a couple of teens that didn’t want to be parted. It was lovely.
Pru had once again fallen asleep in the leather passenger seat that cocooned her, rocking her into slumber, allowing her to catch up after such an early start. She was woken by the sound of Christopher’s voice, loud and stern. He had pulled into a lay-by near Chiswick and was talking into his phone.
‘How has it got to this stage without intervention?’ He covered the mouthpiece and whispered to her, ‘I’m sorry!’
She flapped her hand. ‘It’s fine!’
‘I can be there in half an hour, tops. No, it’s not bloody ideal, it’s Saturday night and it’s a bloody nuisance, actually. But the sooner we contain it, the better for the new bill. Have you called the others?’
There was a pause.
Pru had forgotten about his job, the responsibility, and this was a stark reminder.
‘Good. I’ll see you in a bit.’ He pushed his phone into his top pocket. ‘Pru, I am so sorry, I need to go into the office. Bit of a crisis looming.’
‘Anything I can help with?’ She didn’t know why she said that, unable to think of a single parliamentary crisis that could be fixed with a batch of brownies or a multi-seed loaf.
Christopher laughed. ‘No, you sweet thing, but I love the fact that you asked. I’ll drop you home.’
‘No, Chris, don’t be daft. Drop me in Westminster and I’ll jump in a cab. It’s only five minutes, but a round-trip for you will be a pain at this time of night. Anyway, it sounded like you need to get a wiggle on and I’ll only delay you.’
‘I don’t like the idea of abandoning you.’
‘You’re not – I suggested it. It’s fine. Really.’
Too quickly, he indicated and pulled in by the gates of the House of Commons. Pru leant over and kissed him one more time before jumping out of the passenger door. She watched as he turned down the ramp and out of view.
‘That’s my man,’ she said aloud.
Her phone buzzed as she jumped in the back of a black cab. She looked down, hoping for a text from Christopher. Her face crumpled as the initials CM came up on her screen. U bettr pay me this wk or else. She deleted the message immediately, with shaking hands.
Pru tried to concentrate on the sights beyond the taxi window, attempting to decipher buildings through the dark night. She read the no smoking sign, watched the silent advert for a credit card on the screen on the back of the driver’s seat, studied her nails. In fact she did everything other than consider the ache in her heart and the quiver to her lip that she knew was waiting for release. What were you thinking, girl? Why did you think you could be enough for someone like him? How was it ever going to work? You’ve been kidding yourself.
She paid the cabbie and got out. Pressing her handbag against her Curzon Street front door, she rested it on her raised knee and ferreted for her keys. Was it really only seventeen hours ago that she had set off from here, practically skipping down the stairs? She had jumped into Christopher’s car with a bubble of excitement in her throat and a happiness that verged on madness. Her head had been full of possibilities.
Now she climbed the stairs slowly and sighed as she let herself into the flat. She didn’t want to encounter anyone, least of all Milly, so she headed straight for the bathroom and slid the bolt. She slipped down until her bottom was against the tiles. Her body convulsed as sobs rippled through her. She sat there with two blackened smears around each eye and her head in her hands. The words from all those years ago reverberated in her head. ‘A chain that you will wear around your heart and a sadness that will sit behind your eyes, filling your mouth with sourness. It will taint all you do.’
‘I know,’ she whispered into the empty room. ‘I know.’
Pru looked around her opulent bathroom. She stared into the vast full-length mirror behind the double sink unit; the chrome vintage-style taps gleamed under the array of lights that were angled just-so, to highlight the designer chic. All this wealth, all this luxury and yet she still felt like the little girl from Bow who shared a bed with her cousin and slept in her clothes, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach that groaned with hunger. She had achieved everything she had ever dreamed of in business and yet when she woke in the middle of the night, as she often did, she was just as frightened as she had been when she was ten; she was simply in a different postcode. Filling her mouth with candies and sugar-coated pastry would do nothing to dispel the sourness. She should know that; she had been trying her whole life.
Pru heard the soft tread of her cousin’s shoes on the carpet outside.
‘Please go away, Mills.’
‘You’re not still sulking over that thing the other night?’ Milly sounded resigned, not angry.
‘No,’ Pru managed through her tears.
‘Good, cos that was probably about fifty years overdue, but I’d had a horrible day. It isn’t worth brooding over. You and me are stronger than that, aren’t we?’
Pru nodded. ‘Yes we are.’ She cried again, harder, with instant, sweet relief that she and Milly were back on track.
‘Come on, open the door, come out!’ Milly knocked.
‘No, Milly, I don’t want to see anyone.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ This meant hurry up.
She showered, hoping that the water would wash away some of her sadness. It didn’t. Wrapping her head in a fresh white towel and pulling her soft grey dressing gown tightly around herself, she cleaned her teeth and headed out to the sitting room. Milly sat in her chair in her tiger suit, with a mug of tea between her palms and the newspaper open on her lap.
Pru rolled her eyes at the sight of her cousin’s attire, and nodded at her drink. ‘Are you going to throw that one at me as well?’
‘No, this is just the right temperature; that other one had gone a bit cold.’
‘I didn’t like us fighting, it didn’t feel right.’
‘No, it didn’t, it was horrible.’ Milly flicked her eyes at the space over Pru’s shoulder. ‘I got the carpet and the wall cleaned.’
Pru laughed. ‘I can’t believe you threw a bloody mug at me!’
‘Lucky for you I’m a crap shot.’
The women smiled at each other.
‘What’s all this in aid of, love? Locking yourself in the bathroom, it’s not like you. What’s wrong?’
Pru took a deep breath and tucked her feet under her legs on the wide wingback chair. It was upholstered in a cream and olive stripe, chosen to complement her cousin’s one in check; both fabrics had been recommended by the interior designer, who’d selected them to match the hand-printed feature wallpaper that hung either side of the fireplace. She shook her head. This was a hard conversation to start. ‘I think it’s all suddenly hit me today.’
‘What has? Bobby, you mean?’
‘No, not really. Although partly that, yes. I feel so confused. I don’t honestly know how I can be chasing happiness with Chris when Bobby and William are gone and Meg is in such a mess. It feels wrong.’
‘Yep, I get that. But the point is, you’re not chasing it – it’s caught you. And that’s different. These opportunities aren’t going to be around every corner.’ She smirked at her cousin. ‘That’s my polite way of confirming that yes, you are in fact, old.’
‘I know that. And I do worry about what Bobby would think.’
‘She’d say go for it. She’d tell you that you only get one life and that what happened to her was proof of that.’
‘And what would you say, Mills?’
Pru watched as M
illy’s fingers agitated the newspaper on her lap. This gesture was the closest she would get to saying, ‘I can’t imagine being without you, you’re my family, my business partner, my best friend.’
‘I’d say the same.’ She nodded.
‘Thanks, Mills. Not that I’m going anywhere. We come as a pair, right? A team.’
‘Yep, a team.’ Milly’s shoulders relaxed and she folded her hands together calmly.
‘I feel like I’ve been kidding myself and today I’ve suddenly seen quite clearly what I’ve been trying to avoid. I can’t have a relationship with someone like Christopher. I can’t have a relationship with anyone.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish, course you can!’ Milly sipped her tea.
‘No! No I can’t. If I were meant to be with someone, live with someone or marry someone, then I’d have done it years ago. It’s not a coincidence that I’ve been single my whole life.’
‘But you love him and he loves you, it’s obvious.’
Pru cheered up, remembering. ‘He told me that today actually.’
‘Well there you go!’ Milly tutted.
‘But he doesn’t know me and that’s the trouble. He loves the bits he sees and he loves the person I am now, but he doesn’t know me, does he, Mills? And I can’t tell him and he mustn’t find out.’
A Little Love Page 15
