by Fanny Blake
‘Evie, you promised weeks ago.’ He was full of reproach. ‘What’s the point otherwise?’
‘I know I did, but things have got in the way.’ How feeble she sounded, as vague as he had been earlier, but sharing Terry’s problems with Will would be a disloyalty too far.
While Will ordered two more coffees, Eve was horribly aware that this precious meeting was going all wrong. When they were brought to the table, she played with her spoon in the cappuccino foam, delaying drinking it for as long as possible, desperate to prolong their time together and to smooth things over.
‘I can tell you’re still pissed off with me for being late, but I’ll make it up to you.’ He scratched his temple as he thought, obviously struggling to come up with something. Then his expression lit up. ‘I know. I’m going to Bath next Wednesday to see one of the photographers coming to Africa. I’ll be finished after lunch. Why don’t you meet me and we could stay over and make a night of it?’
She didn’t have to think twice. If she couldn’t explain to Rose, then she would tell her and Terry that she was visiting an author. And what was one night? Nothing. It might even help her make up her mind. Yes, the deciding factor. ‘I’d love to,’ she said, and leaned across the table to kiss him.
The Patisserie Francine was busy, with most of the customers sitting at tables on the street. The July morning was already hot, presaging the first day of a predicted heat wave. Eve didn’t want to make the meeting with Simon any more pleasant than it need be, so she chose a table inside, at the back, where the smell of coffee was strong. She ordered herself a cappuccino, then attended to her emails. Before she’d left, she and Rose had discussed how to reply to the one from Rufus. Accordingly, she sent him a message to suggest they meet while she was in London. Whatever his intentions, neutral territory suited her best. This was one of those times when she wished she had an office in town. Without one, she was restricted to meetings in other people’s offices or in restaurants and cafés. However, she told herself firmly, things could be a lot worse. Still angry and hurt by his defection, she kept the message brief. He probably had no idea how much damage he and Amy had inflicted on the agency at a time when she needed the business to be operating as well as it could. Lost in thought, she stared into the middle distance, beyond the counter piled with baskets of croissants, scones and home-made biscuits.
She didn’t have to wait long before Simon was threading his way through the tables towards her. He sat down, pulling up the neatly creased knees of his chinos as he did so, and ordering a latte from an assiduous waitress who’d scurried after him. ‘Anything more for you?’
Eve shook her head, refusing to give an inch. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He looked nervous, adjusting his rolled-up shirtsleeves, glancing around the other customers until eventually focusing on her.
‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I know it can’t be easy.’
Eve thought of Rose, whom she’d left reading the paper. She had thought it better not to mention she was meeting Simon. This was something she had to do for Rose’s sake. Or that was what she told herself. But now they were face to face, she realised their meeting was a mistake. This was between the two of them. Despite his invitation, she shouldn’t be involving herself.
‘Just say whatever you’ve got to say,’ she said. ‘Rose doesn’t know I’m here.’
He looked taken aback by her aggression, but replied immediately. ‘I’m hoping you’ll persuade her to see me.’ They waited as the waitress put down his coffee. He emptied a sachet of brown sugar into it and stirred, then offered the bowl to her as an afterthought.
She raised her hand in refusal.
‘Simon, I can’t. There’s nothing to be gained from it. Get that into your head. Rose is her own woman. If she’s decided she doesn’t want anything to do with you, then that’s the way it’ll be.’
‘I want to help her. I told her Daniel didn’t love me, and I meant it. He never intended her to find out about us.’
‘You amaze me.’ She was unable to stop the sarcasm in her voice
‘This is so difficult.’ His voice caught, but he recovered himself. ‘You do know Dan was bisexual. He told me you knew.’
She tried not to show any emotion at all as he went on.
‘But he’d been completely faithful to Rose – completely – until we met. I was immediately attracted to him, you see. Perhaps he wanted one last throw of the dice, just to find out about himself. Who knows? We laughed at the same things, enjoyed—’
‘Spare me the detail,’ Eve interrupted sharply. ‘OK, Dan was bisexual, and I can just about accept that, after years of marriage, he was flattered by the attention of a younger man, but what I don’t get is what the hell you thought you were doing befriending his wife. How could you do that?’
‘Everything all right here?’ The waitress was at her side, and Eve realised that eyes had been raised from papers and laptops and were staring at them.
‘I’m sorry. Yes, we’re fine. Perhaps the bill.’ Eve wasn’t going to give him any more time than necessary. The waitress having returned to the counter, she sat back in her chair staring at him. What she saw was a younger man desperate for her approval. But she resisted sympathy. Resting her arms on the table, she leaned forward for his explanation. ‘Well?’
‘I didn’t plan anything. Far from it. I explained that to her. Jess involved me with Trevarrick, then asked me to show the plans to Rose. I could hardly refuse.’
Eve bit back that in her opinion, that was exactly what he could have done.
‘When we met, I liked her. I felt as if I knew her from everything Dan had told me about her. I hadn’t intended to ask her to the opera, but I did. We were both lonely and helped each other through what was a difficult time. I felt I owed her something . . .’ He stopped to drink his coffee.
‘And now?’
‘And now . . . I know she’s hurting, but I’m sure I can help her understand what Dan was going through and how much their marriage meant to him. He talked about her and the girls so often. So I’m asking you to persuade her to meet me. I want to make things better if I can, and I’d like you to give her this.’ He took an envelope from his briefcase and passed it to her.
She held it between finger and thumb as if it was about to explode, then turned it in circles, focusing on the neat but exaggerated curls of the letters. ‘Make things better,’ she repeated, not believing what she was hearing. ‘You’re one of the reasons things are as bad as they are. Why can’t you post it?’
‘Because if you give it to her, and explain, there’s a chance she’ll read it.’ With his elbows on the table, he joined his hands as in prayer and at last looked straight at her. ‘Please.’
He looked so earnest, so anxious, so repentant that her resolution to hold firm wavered, then dissolved.
‘All right,’ she replied, regretting it even as she spoke. ‘I don’t expect it will do any good. She’ll probably bin it anyway. But I’ll see what I can do.’
30
The too aptly titled Leaving had perhaps not been the best DVD they could have chosen. Rose had watched uncomfortably as Kristin Scott Thomas left her well-to-do husband and children for a life of blistering passion with a cash-strapped builder that went on to end in tragedy. All she could think of was her brother, alone at home while Eve, sitting beside her glued to the screen, continued her affair. They had talked about nothing else but Eve’s dilemma since Eve had got back the previous day.
‘He’s a jerk.’ Rose’s opinion of Will hadn’t changed since he’d left Eve in the first place. ‘I wish you wouldn’t. Terry really doesn’t deserve this.’
Eve just looked away and said, ‘I know. But the sex. It’s so good. I can’t—’
Rose put her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. There was little hope of anything she could say influencing Eve, but at least she’d said what she thought and had stood up for her brother. They might not be as close as they once were, but she
couldn’t help feeling as protective of him over this as she had over childish things. She’d hoped she’d be able to drum some sense into Eve during her visit, but so far it hadn’t happened.
Eve was in her dressing gown, stretched out on the sofa. A wide blue headband kept her hair off her face, which was covered in some regenerative anti-ageing muck. Between them were a couple of mugs of camomile-and-spearmint tea. She was looking at an old colour supplement when her phone rang.
‘Will! Hi!’ She let the magazine drop to her lap.
Rose noticed how her voice had become slightly breathy, unhinged even. But despite her irritation, she was also startled by the unexpected longing she felt herself. To love and be loved. Didn’t everybody deserve that? Even Eve with Will – if that was what they both felt for one another. Even if she never experienced those feelings again, at least she’d found them with Daniel. Eve had turned away from her, but she could hear every word.
‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you . . . Yes, I’m fine . . . Can’t chat, I’m with Rose. Yes, I’ll see you then . . .’ She giggled like a love-struck teenager. ‘Well, if you put it like that . . . I can think of a few things we haven’t tried too . . .’
Rose’s heart skipped a beat. Before she could overhear any more, she left the room. The desire in Eve’s voice spoke volumes. But how could she do this to Terry? Why couldn’t she see what a mistake she was making? Despite only having seen Will at the memorial, that once had been enough for Rose. He was still the same charming, raffish type, but there was something untrustworthy about him. If Eve wouldn’t listen, then she would have to find out for herself. And Rose would be sure to be around to catch the pieces.
‘Rose! What are you doing?’
Eve’s voice shattered her thoughts, and she returned to the living room. ‘Just thought I’d give you a bit of privacy.’
‘That was Will.’ Eve’s face was flushed and smiling.
‘No! I’d never have guessed. What did he have to say for himself?’ She asked without being at all sure that she really wanted to know. She sat back in her favourite chair, the one she’d re-covered in the clay and sweet pea stripe.
‘The thing is . . .’ Eve rolled on to her side to face her, her expression hard to read under her thick white mask, ‘he’s asked me to go to Bath with him on Wednesday. Just for a night,’ she added hurriedly.
Her diplomatic skills finally exhausted, Rose snapped. ‘For Christ’s sake, Eve. You can’t carry on with this. Look at you! You’ve been like a cat on hot bricks ever since you got here.’
Despite the white mask, Eve looked abashed. ‘But Rose, he—’
‘I know what he makes you feel. I know about the great sex. Or enough about it. You’ve told me a thousand times. But you have to sort this out once and for all. It’s not just about you. Think about Terry and the kids. What they’ll say. What they’ll do.’ All Rose’s maternal instincts were at the fore. As far as she was concerned, family came first, however difficult or trying they might be. ‘Terry’s your husband.’
Eve stuck out her chin, defiant. ‘But I’ve already said I’ll go. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Will properly, what with everything else that’s been going on. We only had coffee yesterday, and there’s so much we need to discuss.’
For the first time, Rose saw the real possibility that Eve might leave Terry for Will, as inconceivable to her as it was. But the more she voiced her disapproval of them meeting, the more Eve stuck to her guns. Perhaps she should change her tack. ‘It’s been great having you here, you know.’
Eve beamed.
‘I’ll miss you. Talking to you has really helped me and I do feel calmer, but to be honest, the subject of you and Will is beginning to drive me round the bend. If you really want to go to Bath, then go. Have one last fling. Say goodbye. No harm done.’
The gratitude at being given permission to go shone from Eve’s eyes. ‘I still say sex with an ex doesn’t count.’
Rose kicked off her shoes before curling her legs underneath her. ‘I know that’s what you think, but to me, it’s all the same. Either way, go if you must, but if I were you, I’d end it there. Enough said.’
With the understanding that the subject was closed, Rose picked up a summer exhibition catalogue and helped herself to one of the truffles Eve had brought with her.
‘There’s something else.’ Eve’s clear reluctance to say whatever it was made Rose look at her in alarm. ‘I did something today you’re not going to like. But . . . I did it for you.’ She sounded unsure. ‘I think.’
‘And?’ Rose stopped flicking the pages and waited.
Eve had curled herself into a ball, arms around her knees. Only her geisha-like face remained exposed. ‘Well, the thing is . . . Simon asked me to meet him.’ She pressed on, ignoring Rose’s intake of breath. ‘I did, and he asked me to ask you to meet him. I think you should hear him out. There.’ She rolled on to her back again, clearly anticipating Rose’s outraged reaction.
But Rose didn’t feel outrage, just an intense weariness that crept into every limb, making them so heavy. ‘I thought the idea was that we supported each other. Seeing Simon doesn’t seem to me to be doing that. I thought I’d made it absolutely plain to everyone who needs to know.’ The catalogue slipped to the floor with a thump.
Eve started and sat up abruptly to face her again. ‘I thought I’d help by seeing him off.’ The mask was beginning to crack around her mouth.
‘And did you?’ Eve’s nosiness had taken her one step too far this time, but Rose didn’t have any energy left for anger.
‘Well, no. Not exactly.’
‘Then you’d better tell me what happened.’ The thought of them meeting gave Rose the oddest feeling, not so much one of betrayal but of loss. Although she hadn’t known him long, Simon’s friendship had definitely been instrumental in helping her through her loneliness. Her attachment to him had been deeper even than she realised.
‘I kept it short.’ As if that made it better. ‘But I did feel sorry for him. There was something about him that I can’t explain. He wants to see you.’
‘I hope you told him that there was no way on earth that was going to happen.’ Rose picked up the catalogue and went to put it with the others on the bookshelf.
‘I did, of course.’ Eve leaned back on her hands, arms straight, shoulders hunched by her ears, as if she was about to propel herself across the room after Rose. ‘But he gave me something for you.’
‘For God’s sake!’ Rose’s impatience with Eve made her crack again. ‘And you took it?’
‘Honestly, Rose, if you’d seen him, you’d understand. He wants to put things right between you.’
‘If that weren’t so sick, I’d laugh.’ Rose leaned against the mantelpiece, looking down at Eve, unable to believe she’d been so easily taken in. ‘He was my husband’s lover. How do you think that makes me feel? Have you no imagination?’ And yet she had to acknowledge that as well as her feelings of betrayal and revulsion, the smallest part of her missed Simon, his conversation and companionship, their long talks about Daniel and the release afforded her by the music they’d listened to together, the music he chose, his growing interest in the thing she loved most passionately: art. All they had in common had made their short-lived friendship strong. Anna was right.
‘I’m really, really sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.’ Eve crossed the room to hug her. ‘I only wanted to help.’ Rose twisted her face away a moment too late. For a second they were stuck together. Then the left side of her face peeled away part-coated with Eve’s mask. They couldn’t help smiling as she wiped at it. ‘But I might as well give you this anyway. I said I would.’ Eve pulled the envelope from her dressing gown pocket.
Rose took it. ‘I know you meant well. It doesn’t matter.’ She stared at the writing with its familiar curls and swirls, about to tear the envelope in half, then thought better of it. Instead she folded it and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.
‘Aren’t
you going to open it?’ Eve’s sense of drama predictably got the better of her.
‘Not now.’ Rose patted her pocket, aware of how much she was disappointing her friend. ‘Perhaps not at all. Shall we talk about something else? I don’t want to think about him any more.’ She passed Eve the box of truffles.
But when she reached her bedroom twenty minutes later, having arranged to meet Eve after her meeting with Rufus (‘A breakfast meeting. He’ll hate that. And shopping will take you out of yourself’), she had second thoughts. She sat on her bed and stared at the envelope Eve had given her. The writing of her name reminded her of the inscription in the libretto. She glanced at the photo of Daniel that she kept by her bedside, taken by her at the Casa Rosa two years earlier. He was sitting at the terrace table, playing patience. The girls were out of shot, rescuing the burning fish from the barbecue. He smiled back at her, confident, loving, a family man. A man with a secret he couldn’t tell. But whatever he’d done, he had loved her. She knew that in her heart. What would he want her to do now?
She took a biro from the bedside table, slid it into the envelope, then hesitated before ripping it open. The paper tore unevenly before she pulled out a letter. As she unfolded it, something fell to the floor. She let it lie there while she read what Simon had written, her stomach churning.
Dearest Rose,
I’ve explained everything the best way I know how. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what’s happened. Perhaps I should have been honest with you from the start – but how could I have been? What I said to you at Trevarrick was true, and I believe you know that deep down. I was never really under the illusion that Daniel would leave you. I loved him. He desired me – briefly. That’s all. I know how difficult this is for you, but believe me, neither of us intended to hurt you.
