After the Break

by Penny Smith

  ‘Nobody died,’ he had said finally, when her sobbing threatened to wash away some of the furniture. And, as he told his wife later, ‘At least she’s got her work-experience week sorted out!’

  Friday was shaping up to be one of the worst days on record for rainfall and high winds. Katie phoned her brother to check what time they were meeting that night.

  ‘I assume the dress code is wellies and sou’westers.’ She laughed, looking out of the rain-lashed windows. ‘What awful weather–a proper Thomas Hardy day’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ said Ben, who only read books featuring psychopathic killers or CIA operatives.

  ‘Pathetic fallacy. Or is it prophetic fallacy? No. Must be “pathetic”. Oh, I don’t know. Whatever it is, it means when nature reflects what the character is feeling.’

  ‘So you’re feeling wet and windy? As a doctor, I’d suggest an incontinence pad and some charcoal tablets.’

  ‘Thank you. But no. It doesn’t mean that. It means you’d be feeling sad. Rain equals tears and wind equals…well, just a turbulent emotional period. Or something. It’s been a long time since I did A-level English. Anyway,’ she lengthened the word, ‘it’s eight o’clock this evening, right?’

  ‘Yup. Can I say I’m very much looking forward to meeting your new friend, Tanya?’

  ‘Yes, you can say that. I hope she’s up to a conversation about Mum and Dad, since that’s what we’re there for. You will remember that, won’t you?’

  ‘How could I forget? Although I still think it’s not up to us…’

  ‘Grrr. We’ve been through this before, Benjamin Fisher. I’ll see you at eight.’

  Katie had still not told Adam that Bob would be at the dinner. There had been moments when she’d felt it on the tip of her tongue, but she had bitten it back. Better to let him know he had a pink ticket and was free to do what he wanted because she was having a Parent Summit. No point in rocking the shaky boat.

  She was annoyed that her heart would not obey her command to stop racing and lurching when her brain thought about Bob. Bodies. Couldn’t live with them. Couldn’t live without them. Or you’d look bloody odd without one. She giggled.

  Almost a whole day to get ready. What luxury.

  Hundreds of miles north, Bob was on his Triumph, concentrating hard in the hideous weather as he sped along the country roads to Harry’s house. He arrived soaked to the skin.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. It’s the man from Atlantis,’ said Sophie, as she opened the door.

  Bob smiled as he unzipped his motorcycle jacket and waterproof trousers and left them in the porch, along with his boots. ‘Sorry I appear to be a bit damp. The Landie’s stuffed again. I’m hoping my overnight bag hasn’t suffered too much. I put everything in a plastic bag inside it,’ he said, dumping his small rucksack on the floor and opening it to check.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell Harry to come and pick you up en route?’ She tutted.

  ‘Because he’s doing me a favour by driving to London in the first place. Otherwise I’d have had to go down on the bike in this shitty weather, or taken the train. Look, I’m dry underneath–apart from a damp spot at the back of my neck. Motorbike clothing is superb, these days. Where is Harry?’ he asked, looking around.

  ‘Primping,’ she said, nodding upstairs. ‘Go up if you want. He’ll be applying the first layer of moisturizer and under-eye lotion.’

  Bob laughed and went up.

  ‘I’m in here,’ called Harry, having heard his arrival.

  He was in the bedroom throwing things willy-nilly into a tan leather holdall.

  ‘I was in the middle of a tricky timepiece and got absorbed. I’ll be ready in a minute.’

  ‘Your wife said you’d be moisturizing.’

  ‘What does she know?’

  ‘I am a big fan of moisturizer. You can never be too soft.’

  ‘You’re not wearing that for your special dinner, are you?’ asked Harry, standing up and eyeing Bob critically.

  ‘Fuck off,’ said Bob, calmly.

  Harry smiled.

  ‘You look very pretty. Is that a Paul Smith blouse?’

  ‘It’s actually Kenzo for Hommes,’ responded Bob.

  ‘Ooo. Posh. You look good in blue, I must say. It matches your eyes,’ said Harry, with a gay flourish.

  ‘Why thank you, kind sir. Can we get a move on, or we’ll be late?’

  ‘You looking forward to it?’

  ‘With trepidation.’

  ‘Ah. Are you going to tell her how you feel?’

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Bob. ‘She’s got a boyfriend. He’s everything I’m not, plus he lives in London.’

  ‘Well, all right. But I don’t see why you can’t put the thought out there,’ said Harry.

  ‘Sort of “Hello, Katie, if ever you give up that rich bloke, the sad loser from the north is still available”?’

  Harry zipped up his bag. ‘Right. Done. We can talk more in the car.’

  ‘Is Ed with us?’

  ‘Nope. Meeting us there. He’s in Nottingham today, so he’ll go on the train. He’s coming back with us on Sunday. Assuming you’re not happily ensconced in Miss Fisher’s bed.’

  Bob shook his head. ‘You’re an incorrigible optimist. For all I know, she’s spitting tacks that I’m going to be there, and has only agreed because I was the last person to see Jack before he walked out.’

  ‘It’s unbelievable, his walking out like that after all these years. And well done to you for taking him in, I say. Thousands wouldn’t.’

  ‘I really like him. And, strictly between you, me and the gatepost, I loved having him around. Not only did he cook for me, but it was like having Katie there in the background. You can see where she gets all the bad puns and silly word stuff from.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope this is third time lucky for you.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Although Ben Fisher had booked a table at a restaurant with no celebrity clientele, someone must have let the newspapers know. He arrived to find a gang of paparazzi already gathered, and his sister inside, seething. ‘How did they find out we were here?’ she hissed, as he kissed her cheek.

  ‘No idea,’ he said, his face set. ‘It wasn’t me. Do you think Tanya phoned them?’

  ‘I did tell her it was going to be a quiet one, so I hope not.’

  And when Tanya arrived, she confirmed that she had told no one what she was up to that evening. ‘Sometimes they find out through friends of friends,’ she said.

  ‘Or through the restaurant ringing up for more publicity,’ said Katie, with a darkling look.

  ‘Well, whatever, it’s happened. Let’s make the best of it. Should I phone Bob and warn him?’

  ‘What can he do? Put his head under a handy blanket?’ asked Katie. ‘Anyway, it’s all about Tanya and her love life, these days, isn’t it?’ She winked at her friend, who wriggled in the seat and smirked at Ben. He was every bit as good-looking as he was in the photos Katie had shown her in Norway.

  Bob arrived unmolested by the paps. Katie’s heart constricted as he smiled his hellos. He was so handsome. His hair stuck up rakishly, his eyes were as blue as she remembered, and the shirt he was wearing clung to his taut stomach. Her own stomach lurched as he kissed her cheek chastely. It was all she could do to stop herself moving her mouth closer and fastening it on his. God, what kissable lips he had. That thought was swiftly followed by the stern reminder that she had a boyfriend. In any case, she and Bob had already tried twice. What on earth was she thinking? This was madness.

  Bob, too, had a racing pulse. Katie was wearing a soft green plunging top, revealing a hint of lacy bra beneath, and a small diamond necklace. He didn’t want to stare, but he wondered if it was the one he had bought her after the reconciliation in Dorset. That night had almost made up for the wrench of their split. There was nothing quite like making love with heightened emotions.

  While Bob and Katie quietly assessed their responses to
each other, Tanya and Ben were busy flirting. Ben had not had a long-term girlfriend for years, claiming the pressure of work. Katie reckoned it had more to do with his list of non-negotiable attributes–he was too damned fussy–and Ben capitulated: there was no point, he thought, in giving up a comfortable bachelor existence for anything but perfection.

  He wouldn’t have considered Tanya as a girlfriend if he hadn’t been forced to watch Celebrity X-Treme. She had crossed his radar as a mistress to an MP, and that was it. But he had decided he liked her forthright way of calling a spade a spade, and her readiness to laugh at herself and at the vagaries of the press that had vilified her.

  As Tanya entertained Ben, she studied the body language of the other two from the corner of her eye. Something was going on between them, she thought. There was unfinished business there.

  The conversation got very silly, very quickly.

  ‘And not only did I end up with those wretched pants on my head virtually on day one,’ said Katie, giggling as Tanya egged her on, ‘but I had some Canesten cream in my sponge-bag–due to you,’ she wagged a finger at Ben, ‘telling me I should always carry some in case I got any fungal infections. It’s good for everything from athlete’s foot to ringworm, Tanya, apparently, and I mistook it for my toothpaste one night. And there I was, wondering why it didn’t foam up. How to look like a total moron.’

  Ben put his hands up. ‘Yes. I confess I did tell her many years ago about the Canesten. And when she was eleven I told her to go into medicine. So she doesn’t always take my advice.’

  ‘Can you imagine me as a doctor? Really?’ said Katie. ‘You saw me on Celebrity. If I don’t like people, I don’t like them. I’d want to cull them. Dave Unfunny Beal, for example. Take him out and shoot him. Keera Keethley. I’d force her to play in the snow in a tank top and shorts.’

  ‘Very horny image,’ said Ben, nodding. ‘I’d suggest that too.’

  ‘You have no discrimination. She is a brainless bitch from hell.’

  ‘Tell us what you really think, why don’t you?’ said Ben, eating ten skinny chips in one go and washing them down with a big gulp of wine.

  ‘Ah, but when Katie likes people,’ said Tanya, without thinking, ‘she really likes them.’ She had meant to say it in reference to Bob but, coming hot on the heels of talk about Celebrity X-Treme, they were all suddenly uncomfortably aware of what had gone on between Katie and Paul Martin. She made a face. ‘Whoops,’ she said. ‘That was a right clanger, wasn’t it? But, look, she didn’t do what they said she’d done with that bloke. Did you, Katie? Hey, defend me, won’t you?’

  Katie smiled. ‘You really are a ruddy hazard. Ben already knows that it didn’t happen as they suggested. And Bob probably doesn’t care.’ She looked at him.

  He had cared. Very much. He had watched her flirting with the columnist and had hoped she was doing it because her relationship with Adam was on the rocks. He was still confused, but couldn’t see any way to bring it up that wouldn’t lay himself open. ‘I know that clever editing can imply all sorts of things,’ he said. And then, because Katie was gazing at him in a way that made him feel hot and bothered, he called a waiter over for the wine menu. ‘Shall we have the same again?’ he asked generally.

  ‘By the way,’ said Katie, in the lull in the conversation, ‘can we have a moment to talk about why we’re here tonight?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ groaned Ben. ‘Can’t it wait? It’s not as though anything disastrous is going to happen if we don’t do this now. Can’t we have a nice evening with friends?’

  ‘But you know that’s why I organized this,’ said Katie, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ said Ben, wearily. ‘You OK for this, Bob? And you, Tanya? You don’t even know the protagonists.’

  Tanya put her hand over his. ‘It’s fine. I was warned. And I come from what is colloquially termed a broken home, so I can maybe offer my own insights.’

  Bob raised his glass of wine. ‘And, of course, it’s why I’m here,’ he said simply.

  ‘How was Dad when he stayed with you?’ asked Katie.

  Bob considered. ‘Erm, I’m assuming you know why he left your mother?’

  ‘Well, he said it was because he was fed up with being taken for granted.’

  ‘Yep. That’s what he told me too. And then he went home after you had that argument with a cupboard, imagining that it would all be back on track. But he said she immediately started having a go at him.’

  ‘She told me he’d gone boring on her and spent all his time doing cooking and gardening–oh, and fishing with you, Bob,’ said Ben.

  ‘And that’s all possibly true,’ said Katie, ‘except that she goes off on her own and does all her stuff. What was he supposed to do?’

  ‘I know I’m the interloper here,’ said Tanya, ‘but do you think they’ve really fallen out of love with each other, or that they’ve got set in their ways and haven’t worked out what are probably quite small differences? I say small in that if it’s him feeling taken for granted and your mum saying he’s boring, then it isn’t that difficult to see that they need to do some talking.’

  There was a moment’s silence as they digested her comments.

  ‘But how do we get them talking again?’

  ‘I could take them both fishing,’ suggested Bob.

  Katie laughed. ‘Oh, I can so see Mum dressed in waders, spending three hours up to her thighs in cold water.’

  ‘You don’t need to go that far, surely,’ said Tanya. ‘I mean, you could think up an excuse as to why you need them to be at a family gathering.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Katie. ‘But what would we need to talk about that requires them to be there at the same time?’

  The waiter arrived with the new bottle of wine and Bob sampled it. ‘That’s fine,’ he said, gesturing to the man to fill the glasses.

  Ben was gazing into the middle distance. ‘Yes, usually only births, weddings and deaths bring families together. And that ain’t happening any time soon. Or is it?’ He raised an eyebrow at Katie.

  She shook her head emphatically, hoping that Bob was taking note. He was.

  They sat sipping their wine.

  ‘Hey, I’ve had an idea,’ said Tanya, suddenly, her eyes sparkling. ‘You live nearby, right?’ she asked Bob, who nodded. ‘So, why doesn’t one of you,’ she gestured at Katie and Ben, ‘speak to your parents and invite them to a special dinner at Bob’s?’

  They looked confused.

  ‘You know,’ she rushed on, ‘Katie phones her dad and says there’s a dinner at Bob’s and she needs him to be there as her date, or whatever. And Ben phones your mum and says the same. And then–God, I’m so brilliant–when they turn up, there’s just the two of them. The dinner’s in the oven. The candles are lit. But you’ve all scarpered. And they have to speak to each other.’ She looked at their faces, seeing doubt that it would work. She pressed on. And maybe you’ve got bunches of flowers everywhere and there’s a card on them, saying, “Sorry. I love you,” with kisses and things. Not addressed to anyone. But they think they’re for them. Obviously, because no one else is there.’ She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  Katie was the first to break the silence as they digested the suggestion. ‘But as soon as they found out we’d done it, we’d be back to square one,’ she reasoned.

  ‘Only if they really don’t want to be together,’ said Tanya. ‘That’s why I asked whether they wanted to be together but were going through a sort of late mid-life crisis.’

  ‘You know, it might work,’ said Bob, thoughtfully.

  ‘You reckon?’ asked Ben.

  ‘Well, it’s not the worst idea in the world.’

  ‘Hey, thanks,’ said Tanya, in a mock huff.

  Bob smiled at her.

  God, thought Tanya, what a devastating smile. If Katie didn’t mind, she might have a pop at him if Ben didn’t cut the mustard.

  Bob liked her. He thought she was an open and generous woman. But his entire being was har
d-wired to Katie, who at this minute was chewing her bottom lip in concentration. He wondered how she would respond if he asked to take over from her teeth. He couldn’t stop a small laugh escaping.

  Katie looked at him with enquiry in her green eyes.

  He recovered quickly. ‘I was imagining the scene,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Funnily enough, it works for me. Big bunches of flowers. Food in the oven. And presumably in the fridge. If we were to do this, then who would cook?’

  ‘Well, we could all lump in, couldn’t we?’ asked Bob.

  ‘I think you’re forgetting that Ben could cock up slicing a tomato,’ she said caustically. ‘He’s famous for his burnt offerings. Mum and Dad would turn up along with the Fire Brigade and have to rescue the singed cat.’

  ‘OK. So you and I do the food,’ said Bob, trying to make it sound casual. ‘Ben sets the table, buys the flowers, writes suitably contrite messages and does the wine.’

  Katie felt a warm glow invading the lower quarters of her body. The idea of her and Bob in his cosy kitchen, knocking up a meal for her parents, was very appealing. ‘I’m up for it,’ she said.

  ‘In the absence of anything better, so am I,’ said Ben. ‘As long as you’re OK with my parents getting it on in your house, Bob.’

  ‘Should I put plastic sheeting down?’ Bob laughed.

  ‘That is not a good thought,’ said Katie, making a face.

  ‘Anyway, it’s fine by me,’ said Bob. Anything to help my closest neighbours. It may mean that I never have to eat Sunday lunch on my own again.’

  The evening wore on and many bottles of wine were consumed, so that when the bill came, it was a lot bigger than any of them could have imagined.

  And Katie had been wrong when she assumed that the photographers would not recognize her ex-boyfriend. The flashguns virtually blinded them as they emerged from the restaurant together. Bugger, she thought drunkenly, as she smiled guiltily. But at least I haven’t done anything really bad.