‘Coq au vin,’ I corrected, as everybody toasted me. I pulled out my chair and slumped down heavily. Picking up my knife and fork, I concentrated on delivering food into my mouth and not my ear, one of which was straining to hear Jeanie and Alex.
‘It’s been going on too long,’ Jeanie was saying.
‘Have you told anyone?’
‘God, no!’
‘Does Ray know?’
‘Absolutely not, he’d go mad.’
‘Sooner or later the truth will out. Secrets never stay quiet for long.’
‘Don’t say that. The shit will well and truly hit the fan if this one gets out.’
‘Sometimes family life gets challenged. It goes with the territory.’
Oh my God. They were talking about their affair and the fall-out if they went public. I must have looked stricken, because Jack was gazing at me with concern.
‘Feeling better now?’ he asked.
I looked at his handsome face, noticing the kindness in his thickly-lashed eyes. I nodded.
‘Sure? You look –’ he put his head on one side and considered for a moment – ‘sad. As if the weight of the world is on your shoulders.’
‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘it does feel a bit like that sometimes.’
‘Want to tell me about it? Sometimes a problem shared is a problem halved.’
I shook my head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Is it a secret?’
I nodded miserably.
‘Sooner or later the truth will out. Secrets never stay quiet for long.’
Oh my goodness, those were the very words Alex had just said. For a moment I felt like I was in a living nightmare, as if some invisible force was giving me subliminal messages, urging me to rip the very fabric of Alex and Jeanie’s secret wide apart so it was out in the open. What would the pair of them do if I stood up, tapped my glass for silence and calmly announced, “Ladies and gentlemen. Jeanie and Alex are fucking each other. More mashed potato anyone?”
‘Isn’t that right, Holly?’
My husband had interrupted my thoughts. ‘Sorry, I missed the question,’ I replied.
‘I was telling Jeanie about the trigeminal neuralgia charity I’m involved in.’
‘Oh yes?’
My mind rewound the conversation I’d ear-wigged. No, no that couldn’t be right. There were no secrets about Alex’s charity work. They’d obviously quickly changed the subject, worried about being overheard. The scheming love rats.
‘A little while ago,’ said Alex, ‘you told me you wanted to be involved in future events.’
‘Did I?’ I looked at him, horrified. The last thing I wanted was to be sitting in the corner of some dreary room with peeling paint, perched on a chair and taking Minutes of an Annual General Meeting.
‘Yes,’ he said, his tone chiding, and expression pained. ‘It was after your disapproval of my regular partner accompanying me at the dinner dance functions.’
‘What partner?’ asked Jeanie, eyes round with surprise.
Was it my imagination or did she look outraged? Proprietorial?
‘I have a female friend,’ Alex explained, ‘who is heavily involved in the charity, and who I used to take as my plus-one, because Holly found it all immensely boring. What were the words you used to describe one of their galas, darling? Oh yes. Full of chinless wonders and stuffed shirts.’
‘Chinless wonders, by their very anatomy, do give excellent head,’ said Simon, coming in on the conversation, ‘although I’m not so sure about stuffed shirts.’
‘Anyway,’ said Alex, ignoring Simon, ‘there was a little misunderstanding between Holly and my lady friend recently, resulting in my wife now availing herself for such functions. However, the lady in question is unable to bring her partner—’
‘—because he’s married,’ I explained sweetly to everyone around the table.
‘That’s her business,’ said Alex curtly. I realised drink had made him punchy. Well, he wasn’t alone. I was feeling pretty punchy too. ‘As I was saying, the lady in question has nobody to accompany her to the next function—’
‘My heart bleeds,’ I said sarcastically, noting that Jeanie had gone very quiet.
‘—and I thought, Jack,’ said my husband looking across the table, ‘that as you’re a neurosurgeon and share the same interest, perhaps you might like to come to the event and also be the lady’s plus-one for the evening?’
My mouth dropped open. My husband was volunteering Jack to partner Annabelle Huntington-Smyth? I appreciated Alex had his hands full pretending to be happily married to me whilst bonking Jeanie and having a relationship with Annabelle that I hadn’t yet quite got to the bottom of, but volunteering Jack? My Jack? I instantly went cold, as if somebody had thrown a bucket of iced water in my face. Suddenly I was stone-cold sober. Where the hell had that bit of exclusive ownership come from? Jack wasn’t my Jack. I picked up my glass with a slightly trembling hand and took a sip of water.
‘What an excellent idea,’ I said, my voice quavering. Jack was single. As was Annabelle. In fact, I could visualise the two of them together. A truly good-looking couple. Perhaps they would fall madly in love with each other at the dinner dance. The thought made my stomach contract, and I could feel the earlier booze mixing unhappily with dinner. Look on the bright side, Holly! said the little voice in my head, if Jack and Annabelle fall in love, that’s one less woman prowling around your husband. I looked at Jack. ‘You must come!’ I said brightly, ‘it will be such fun.’
‘Why not?’ Jack smiled.
‘Excellent,’ said Alex. ‘I’ll let my friend know. She’ll be delighted.’
‘When is it?’ asked Jack.
I tensed, as a thought struck me. Oh no. Please don’t let Alex say it’s the day of the surprise birthday party.
‘A week today,’ said Alex. ‘The last Saturday in September.’
I exhaled gustily, drawing a curious look from my husband. The party was the first Saturday in October. Thank you, God. I mentally blew a kiss heavenwards.
‘Can others attend this function?’ asked Caro. ‘David and I are up for it, if so.’
‘Sadly no,’ said Alex, not sounding very sincere.
I was aware my husband hadn’t bothered to talk very much to either Caro or David, and that it had been Simon who’d kept them entertained at that end of the table with outrageous stories about his fashion business, and how he’d once designed special carpezio pants for a pop star who hadn’t had her willy removed. “It was either that or six rolls of duct tape,” he’d said, making them laugh, “and even I crossed my legs when I saw what a big girl she was.”
Alex gave a grateful nod at Jack for agreeing to partner Annabelle, and promptly went back into a huddle with Jeanie. I couldn’t quite catch what they were saying. He sounded like he was placating her. Was she angry with him for not being invited to the dinner dance? I was determined, before the night was over, to find out what the hell was going on here, and seemingly right under my nose. A warm hand landed on mind, scattering my thoughts and sending a million volts through my body, right up to my eyeballs, which were possibly lighting up like a fruit machine.
‘I’m looking forward to this charity dinner dance,’ said Jack.
‘Me too,’ I gasped. He hadn’t removed his hand, and his touch was playing havoc with my pulse, which seemed to have relocated between my legs.
‘Will it really be full of chinless wonders and stuffed shirts?’ He looked amused, and his eyes upon mine were teasing.
I shrugged, embarrassed that Alex had publicly vocalised a private opinion. ‘Maybe one or two.’
‘Then we’ll have to liven it up a little,’ he said with a wink.
‘Oh?’ I said, trying not to stare at him wantonly.
‘As a thank you for dishing up dinner while you took a cat nap on your kitchen island, I want you to promise you’ll have a dance with me.’
‘Sure,’ I said lightly, as if it was no big deal. Which it wasn’t. I just wish
ed my body would take heed of that.
34
The dinner party rumbled on. Simon’s champagne had long been finished and Alex had divested the cooler of several more bottles. I was slowly drinking myself sober with glasses of water and noticed Jack was doing the same. Wordlessly, he stood up at the same time as me, and began collecting up dinner plates and dirty cutlery, helping me carry it all out to the kitchen. Alex and Jeanie were almost nose to nose. They’d be snogging each other in a minute. I was amazed Ray hadn’t noticed anything amiss. I stacked the tureens and looked at him under my eyelashes. He seemed quite unperturbed, yakking away to Caro, David and Simon.
By the time Jack and I had returned to the dining room with pudding bowls, a large crystal platter heaped with the melon balls, and the ice-cream had been transferred to an attractively frosted dish, conversation had changed to the subject of social media. Jeanie and Alex seemed to have finally emerged from their private bubble. After all, I thought sourly, there’s only so much huddling a couple can do in public without excusing themselves and getting a room. I banged the ice-cream down on the table harder than intended, making everybody jump. There was a moment’s silence, then Simon peered in horror at the contents of the frosted dish.
‘What in God’s name is that, dah-ling?’ he said, shuddering. ‘It looks like something one of my ex-lovers once produced. And I don’t mean in the kitchen.’
For once I was in agreement with Alex about my brother’s jokey innuendo. This was overstepping the mark.
‘Do you have to be so disgusting?’ I snapped.
‘I’m not,’ said Simon, affronted, ‘it was my ex-lover who was disgusting. It turned out he had an infection.’
‘This is homemade mint sorbet!’ I roared, ‘and it’s bloody delicious.’
Simon opened his mouth to say something, but I waved a serving spoon aloft.
‘Do not,’ I warned, eyes flashing, ‘make any further comment. Now, who wants some of this?’ I asked, looking around the table.
Needless to say, after that nobody wanted any of the ice-cream, and only the melon balls were eaten.
Alex squinted at me across the table.
‘I didn’t know you were on Facebook,’ he said accusingly. ‘Why haven’t you friended me?’
‘Because,’ I blustered, ‘there is surely no point. After all, I’m married to you.’
‘Well perhaps you should friend me,’ he said petulantly, ‘and then you would be able to see what I’m up to and won’t feel the need to use my laptop and make ridiculous conversation with my friends.’
‘Oh?’ said Jeanie, looking at me speculatively. ‘What’s naughty Holly been up to then?’
‘Nothing,’ I spluttered, flushing with embarrassment. I’d bloody kill Alex later. ‘It was just a silly misunderstanding.’ I glared at my husband, daring him to elaborate on the subject.
‘Well I’m glad you haven’t friended me,’ said Simon imperiously, ‘because frankly, Holly, if you saw my Timeline you’d be shocked.’
‘Do not tell me it’s full of gorgeous willies,’ I said through clenched teeth, ‘otherwise I might just lose my temper.’
Simon looked outraged. ‘What a thing to say! Do you honestly think I want reporting to the Facebook police?’ He tossed his head with annoyance. ‘I have a business page full of fashion, littered with pics of gorgeous models wearing fabric you’d want to caress and clothes you’d want to make love to. Something you wouldn’t know much about if both your peeved expression and that awful rag you’re wearing is anything to go by.’
‘How dare you!’ I seethed.
‘Joke, dah-ling, joke,’ said Simon, his tone suddenly bored.
‘I’m Facebook friends with Ray,’ said Jeanie.
‘And I’m Facebook friends with Caro,’ said David.
‘Awww, that’s because he loves me,’ Caro smiled drunkenly.
‘No, it’s so I can keep tabs on what you’re up to,’ said David dryly. ‘All that claim to being knackered because you’ve been doing the housework all day long. The other day a Facebook notification pinged me that you were shopping at Bluewater with Jeanie and Holly.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Ray, ‘Jeanie came home with an amazing outfit for the party.’
‘What party?’ asked Alex, just as Jeanie applied a hefty kick to Ray’s ankle under the table.
‘This party,’ I said brightly. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’
Alex looked confused, as well he might. ‘Are we talking about the dress Jeanie’s wearing or tonight’s gathering?’
‘Both,’ I smiled. ‘More wine anyone?’
David held out his glass for topping up. ‘So, as I was saying, Facebook lets me know what Caro’s really been up to, and then she gets home and squirts a bit of furniture polish in the air and makes out she’s exhausted.’
‘Oooh, Detective David is after me, eh?’ Caro nudged her husband playfully.
‘Yes, and I might have to arrest you for telling fibs.’
‘In which case you’ll have to handcuff me,’ Caro purred, ‘and let me play with your truncheon.’
‘Not here, darling,’ David murmured.
‘Obviously.’ Caro rolled her eyes. ‘I meant at home.’
I glared at the unappetising mint sorbet. I wasn’t usually envious of my friends, but hearing Caro and David engage in a bit of sexy banter, suddenly made me feel resentful about my own slightly sterile marriage.
Jack put his hand on my arm, and once again I nearly hit the ceiling. I wished he’d stop doing that, especially after Caro’s sexy banter with David. I was feeling rather hot and bothered. If Jack wasn’t careful I’d grab hold of his hand, kiss its palm and work my way up his forearm and not stop until I’d reached his mouth.
‘Thanks for accepting my friend request,’ he said.
‘Pleasure,’ I said, thinking more of his touch on my arm than our friendship on social media.
I could see Jeanie was now very drunk. She leant forward to say something and for one awful moment I thought her breasts were going to slip out of their awning. I looked at Alex for his reaction, but he seemed unmoved, although David’s and Ray’s eyes were on stalks. Jack wasn’t looking. Thankfully, he’d removed his hand from my arm and was now talking to Simon about his fashion business.
‘I must shay…’ Jeanie slurred, ‘that when I’ve had too much to drink,’ she smacked her lips together lasciviously, ‘I get very randy.’ She turned to Alex and, eyes almost crossing, let out a little giggle. ‘Fancy doing the alphabet?’ she asked him slyly.
‘Sorry?’ said Alex.
‘Jeanie,’ I said warningly.
She ignored me and instead continued to stare at Alex, her pupils now dilated to the size of my dinner plates as she stuck her tongue between her parted lips, flicked it back and forth a few times and then started to sing, ‘Ayyy, bee, cee, dee—’
‘I think it’s time for coffee,’ I said, standing up abruptly, ‘and you can give me a hand, Jeanie.’ In one deft movement I was by her side, yanking her to her feet. The bosom mountain wobbled violently as I practically dragged her out to the kitchen.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’ I demanded, once we were out of earshot and I’d shut the kitchen door after me.
‘Eh?’ Jeanie squinted at me, angrily shaking me off.
‘You know perfectly well,’ I glared at her.
‘Why are you getting all huffy with me?’ she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and adopting a narked pose.
‘You heard,’ I hissed. Careful, Holly, careful. Jeanie’s drunken singing of the alphabet isn’t actually proof of a raging affair. I changed tack. ‘I don’t appreciate you leaking secrets I’ve shared about what goes on between me and my husband in the bedroom.’
‘Sorry,’ she said sulkily. ‘It was just a bit of fun.’
‘For you maybe, but not me. That’s private stuff, understand?’
‘I said sorry,’ Jeanie harrumphed.
‘And another thing,’ I said, seein
g that now was as good a time as any to interrogate her, ‘why were you and Alex talking about divorce earlier?’
‘No particular reason,’ she shrugged, ‘Caro had brought up the subject of Brangelina’s messy public showdown, and Alex and I ended up talking about the cost of divorce and how expensive it is.’
‘Oh yeah? Why’s that then? Planning on getting divorced?’
‘Wha–?’ She stared at me incredulously.
‘I heard you at the dinner table, Jeanie,’ I said angrily.
She shook her head, bewildered. ‘What are you on about?’
‘Your conversation with Alex. You said it had been going on too long, but you hadn’t told anyone, that Ray didn’t know and he’d go mad if he did, and Alex said that sooner or later the truth would out because secrets never stayed quiet for long and that sometimes family life gets challenged. You were talking about your affair and getting divorced, right?
Jeanie’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Stop shouting your big mouth off, Holly,’ she hissed. ‘My husband is on the other side of that wall,’ she pointed in the direction of the dining room. ‘If you must know—’
‘Yes, I really must,’ I glared at her.
‘I was talking to Alex about Charlotte. She needs dental braces and I don’t want to use the National Health. They’ve already messed up her teeth, and she’s in bits about it. I secretly took my daughter along to see Alex, but obviously he only does private work and Ray doesn’t earn the sort of money to cover Charlotte’s orthodontics. So Alex is doing mates’ rates, and I’m filching from the house-keeping to pay for it. I was telling Alex that Ray would go mad if he found out. Satisfied? Or do you want to shout that out for my husband to hear too?’
I stared at her, open-mouthed. Was she telling the truth? Or was she lying? There always seemed to be plausible explanations from Alex every time I distrusted him. Was Jeanie doing the same thing? Giving me a plausible explanation? I didn’t know for sure. Perhaps, for now, I should give her the benefit of the doubt…?
What Holly's Husband Did Page 16
