by Jane Fallon
I’m avoiding Robbie as much as I can, without it looking impolite. I always do at these things – and he does the same – hence our reputation for disliking each other. It gives me a buzz, though, to know he’s in my house. It always perks our sex up for a bit after we’ve been at one of these dos together. Not that it needs perking up, you understand, but a bit of added spice never hurt anyone, did it? Robbie likes to tell me how he couldn’t take his eyes off me, how much he wanted to have me there and then and sod the consequences.
I feed Paula a bit more Robbie and Samantha ‘gossip’. She laps up the stuff about him getting bored of her, and I wonder for a moment whether she’s thinking of pretending it never happened. Letting him off the hook, when he doesn’t even know he’s been caught. She’s made of stronger stuff, though, I think. She’s on a mission to reclaim her life.
Jez wasn’t invited, by the way. It’s pretty much considered the worst faux pas on any show – but especially a long-running one with a regular cast – to invite all the players along to something but leave out one person. It’s as if the rest of us have signed a secret pledge, though. No one has mentioned the party to him, and no one will talk about it in front of him on Monday. It’ll be as if it never happened. He’s too much of a loose cannon. He could start a fight in a nunnery (although, to be fair, some of those nuns can be quite feisty, haha!) and I didn’t want anyone to ruin my night.
It’s fabulous, it really is. All my friends gathered under one roof to celebrate my birthday. So much love. And it’ll be the last time, I know that. I’m sure Robbie and I will have spectacular parties in the flat, don’t get me wrong. I fully intend to make it the place everyone wants to be. But we won’t have the space or the garden. Not for a while, anyway. It won’t be the same.
So I just need to enjoy this last hurrah. Before we blow everyone’s worlds apart.
I’m still out in the garden, now chatting to Grace, wife of David (Farmer Giles himself), about baking – a subject I know nothing about and have no opinion on, but she seems to find it fascinating – when I hear a shout coming from inside, followed by a mix of laughter and gasps. There’s a tangible change in the atmosphere and I know, I just know, something has happened.
‘Let me just go and see what’s going on,’ I say to Grace, glad of the excuse to get away, truthfully.
I don’t know what it is I expect to find. Everyone turns towards me as I walk in. It’s as if everything is in slow motion. Like in a Western when the piano player lowers the lid and everybody swivels around to stare at the stranger who’s just strolled in.
I instinctively look for Robbie in the crowd. He’s standing at the door to Joshie’s study, his face a mix of disbelief and anger.
I step further into the room, push my way through the gathered crowd, in an effort to see what’s going on.
44
Paula
Fuck, shit.
This is not what was supposed to happen.
After my little chat with Saskia in the garden I headed back inside and decided to try and locate Josh’s study. I wanted to be as prepared as I could be. Across the room, I could see Robert deep in conversation with a man I didn’t know. If he’d noticed me sneaking off to talk to her, he wasn’t giving anything away.
I wove through the groups of people in the living room, opened the first door I came to, but that turned out to be a cupboard. The next led to a flight of stairs. I was heading for the third door, thinking that must be where it was, when I became aware of Josh by my side.
‘It’s just through here,’ he muttered. He walked through a square archway and I followed, after a quick look around to check no one was watching. There was a door to the right that I remembered was the bathroom where I first struck up a conversation with Saskia. Josh opened the door straight ahead and went in. Confident that no one could see me in the little recess, I went after him. Shut the door behind us.
Inside was a small but beautiful room with dark wood bookcases lining the walls. There was a desk against the window, looking out on the tiny front garden and the road, with a computer and a pile of scripts on top of it. On either side of the (real) fireplace were two small leather sofas, each just barely big enough for two people.
‘This is it,’ he said. ‘So, if we sit ourselves here,’ – he indicated one of the sofas – ‘next to each other.’
‘OK,’ I said. My heart had started pounding again at the thought that we were actually going to go through with it.
‘Are you feeling ready?’
I nodded. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be. We are doing the right thing, aren’t we?’
‘Well, I don’t know about that, but we’re doing something to make ourselves feel better, so that has to be a good idea.’
‘I suppose.’
He put his hands on my shoulders. ‘Listen, Paula, we can back out any time we want. If either of us doesn’t want to go through with it, then we just forget it and wait for them to tell us the truth in their own good time.’
‘Oh God. It seemed like such a good plan, but now I feel as if we’re just being vindictive.’
‘Let’s remember we didn’t start this, though …’
‘I know. But do we want to sink to their level?’
He dropped his hands. ‘I don’t know. Shit, maybe this was a stupid idea. Shall we just forget about it? Your call.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Neither do I.’
‘Fucking hell. We could toss for it.’
For a moment Josh actually looked as if he was thinking that might be a good idea. ‘We need to be a hundred per cent certain if we go ahead. Any doubt, we should bail out.’
I had no hesitation. ‘Let’s bail out then. Fuck.’
He laughed. ‘What a pair of idiots.’
‘Well, at least Saskia got a nice birthday party out of it.’
‘What if she decides that she’s so grateful she doesn’t want to leave me any more?’
I couldn’t help it. I started laughing too and couldn’t stop. I think we both had a case of mild, relief-induced hysteria.
‘We’ve made her fall back in love with you! All it took were a few canapés and half a glass of champagne.’
‘Shit! What have I done?’
I leaned against the desk, feeling slightly light-headed. ‘We should become marriage counsellors.’
‘Wife having an affair? Dress a runner up as a waiter – that’ll have her wanting to renew her marriage vows in no time.’
‘Don’t,’ I said, clutching my side. ‘I’m going to have a heart attack.’
‘Worried that your husband’s cheating? Offer him a bit of goat’s cheese and tomato on a stick.’
Eventually, we laughed ourselves out. I felt a lot better for it. Like I’d opened up a valve and let the pressure go down.
‘OK,’ Josh said finally. ‘We need to go back out there. Otherwise, they’ll be wondering where we are.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Sure.’
And that was nearly that. We were almost home free. But then Josh took hold of my hand as I passed him on my way to the door – we had decided I should leave first and then he’d follow a few minutes later, just in case.
‘Seriously, though, I can’t wait for this to be over,’ he said.
I felt my stomach flip. ‘Me neither.’
‘It’s driving me crazy.’
I could have taken my hand away. Could have moved towards the door. Instead, I looked right at him and he held my gaze with his intense, beautiful brown eyes. I could hear the low music from next door, the murmur of voices.
He put his hand under my chin. I don’t know who made the first move, who kissed who but, next thing I knew, we were in a clinch like we’d been on a desert island and neither of us had seen anyone of the opposite sex in living memory.
Remember when you were a teenager and a kiss could last an ecstatic twenty minutes? When self-imposed boundaries meant you emerged the other end a s
weaty ball of anticipation and arousal but still with your clothes more or less intact?
That.
I don’t know how long it lasted, actually. I know it felt incredible. I know it lived up to every fantasy I’d been allowing myself to indulge in since Josh reappeared in the café and told me it was over with Saskia. At the back of my brain, a niggling voice kept telling me that this wasn’t the time or the place, that we shouldn’t be taking a risk like this. But I ignored it.
And then there was a squeal. A noise that said someone had seen something they shouldn’t. And a ripple of laughter. Someone said, ‘Whoa!’ in a really loud voice.
‘Oh my God, sorry!’ a woman’s voice said.
It all happened so quickly. Josh and I stepped away from each other, both straightening our clothes, but it was too late. Gathered in the doorway was a group of three people, two men and a woman, none of whom I knew, which, I suppose, was some kind of a relief. Behind them, alerted by the squeal and the shout of ‘Whoa!’, about eight or nine more, including David and Grace. And, at the back of that little group, his face a mixture of shock and disgust, Robert.
‘This isn’t what it looks like,’ I said, although what else it could possibly be I couldn’t say.
I saw Robert turn and walk away, and my first instinct was that I should go and explain myself to him. I stayed rooted to the spot, though, because I couldn’t face fighting my way through the sniggering crowd.
‘Introduce us to your lady friend, Josh,’ said some tosser I recognized as the actor playing a brash young toff from the village ‘big house’. Several people laughed.
I heard David trying to shoo people away and was grateful that they mostly did as they were asked. I finally managed a look at Josh.
‘OK, fun’s over,’ he said to the stragglers, as if he’d just realized what was going on. ‘Let’s all go and get another drink.’ I could see him scanning the crowd for Saskia, as was I. Then I saw a huddle and, in the middle, a blonde head. She looked over just at that moment and caught my eye. She didn’t acknowledge me, just turned back and allowed herself to continue being ‘comforted’ by the crowd around her.
‘You OK?’ Josh said to me, under his breath.
‘Not really. You?’
He took hold of my hand, out of sight of the remaining few, and quickly squeezed it. That, more than anything, gave me courage. At least I never had to see any of these people again. Josh had to work with them every day – had to somehow garner their respect as the boss – for as long as he remained at Farmer Giles. I couldn’t even imagine how difficult that was going to be.
‘I need to go and …’ he said, indicating where Saskia was still standing at the centre of a small group, a sea of hands petting her.
‘Me too.’
I put my head down and braved the other room. I heard someone say, ‘Who is she, anyway?’ and I was glad for Robert’s sake that everyone hadn’t yet put two and two together.
There was no sign of him. I made my way towards the kitchen, giving Saskia and her friends a wide berth.
‘How could you?’ I heard her shriek, and I assumed that Josh had reached her. Everyone went quiet again, a captive audience. Saskia, of course, wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to play the wronged woman. Even though I felt bad for her – it can never be great having all your colleagues witness your husband copping off with another woman, whatever the state of your marriage – I also knew that we’d played right into her hands. Josh could be the bad guy, she could be the heartbroken, devoted wife. Everyone would understand why she had to kick him out and, if she took up with Robert a few weeks later, then who wouldn’t sympathize? Who wouldn’t turn to an old friend at a time of crisis?
I knew that, of course, Josh was way too much of a gentleman to turn around in front of all these people and tell her what he knew. He’d save that for later. He’d allow her to have her moment at the centre of a tragedy.
There was no sign of Robert anywhere and, when I wandered out of the front door, unsure where to look next, I saw that the car had gone. Great.
I couldn’t really face going home, and the recriminations that would follow, but I didn’t know what else to do. So I sat down on the steps and called an Uber. Of course, there was nothing in the area so I ended up waiting nearly half an hour, shivering in my summer dress, as the night had turned chilly, but way too self-conscious to go back inside to find my cardigan. And besides, for all I knew, the heartbroken character Saskia had created might have murderous tendencies.
Several people left as I was sitting there. A couple said goodnight, but mostly they just ignored me or I caught a snigger as they passed. Ironically, the only person who showed any concern was Samantha.
‘What are you doing sitting here, babe? You’ll freeze,’ she said, as she tottered towards her waiting (obviously pre-booked) taxi.
‘Waiting for my Uber. I’m fine. Thanks.’
‘Do you want me to wait with you? I don’t think you should be sat here on your own.’
‘No. That’s really nice of you to offer, but I’ll be OK.’
‘Or I could give you a lift – I’m going to Clapham, if that’s any good?’
‘Opposite way. Really, I’m fine.’
She went off eventually. It crossed my mind to try to explain to her what the situation really was. Specifically, how Saskia had used her name in her manipulations but, even to me, it sounded insane. Another time.
Just as my car arrived, my phone beeped and a message from Gail aka Josh appeared. ‘Where are you? Are you OK?’
‘On my way home,’ I replied.
‘Jesus, what a fucking mess. I’ll call you in the morning. All kicking off here xx’
I didn’t know what to say, so I just sent back ‘XX’. I didn’t imagine either of us was going to have a good night.
45
Saskia
Whatever Robbie and I have done, we’ve done it in private. Gone to great lengths to make sure we’re not humiliating anyone. And this is the thanks we get?
Paula! Paula, of all people. Josh must have been drunk. Or she initiated it. Some kind of desperate attempt to prove she’s attractive. And he just got swept up in the moment. But to be caught! And in my own house! At my party! It’s like the script for a farce.
I was seething, I’ll tell you that much. All those people watching my husband with his hand inside some woman’s dress. At least, that’s what they tell me. I made Geri and Fedrico from the make-up department give me all the gory details. They were the first ones in there. Them and Sharon, the third assistant. They said they were looking for the way out to the garden, but they’ve all been here many times before, so that’s not true. Probably off to snort a few lines in private. I’m glad they don’t tell me. Our parties might be boozy, but they’re never druggie. I abhor that stuff.
Anyway, so the story goes, they were in the middle of a passionate kiss – Joshie and Paula, that is, not Geri, Federico and Sharon, haha! He had his hand on her boob. She had one of hers – well, you can imagine. On the outside of his jeans, not the inside, thank God.
Federico says they didn’t know what to do, they were so shocked. So they just stood there for a minute, by which time half of the rest of the room had seen. From what other people tell me, they drew attention to it by squawking and squeaking all over the place. And, even if they hadn’t, they’re the world’s biggest gossips, so it would have been all round in no time.
Of course, everyone’s first concern was for me. There was no shortage of people fussing around ‘making sure you’re OK’. I could feel the excitement, though, if that’s the right word. Like they wanted to be involved in the drama, but, in fact, they couldn’t wait to leave so they could talk about what had happened. Laugh behind my back. I’m not so naïve that I think all those people really had my best interests at heart. They just wanted to be able to say they had a front-row seat.
And, all the time, all I was thinking was ‘Where’s Robbie?’ Had he seen? Did he care?’ I wa
s struck with an absolute fear that he might be heartbroken and realize he had really loved her all along. I kept scanning the room for a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Was he with her?
Eventually, I heard someone say, ‘Where’s Robert?’ and someone else answer, ‘Left, I think.’ And next thing I knew, Joshie was by my side.
‘How could you?’ I said, in the loudest voice I could. Might as well milk it.
The crowd around me shushed, obviously hoping the second act was about to start. Josh tried to usher me away, but I was having none of it.
‘Where’s she gone?”
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘After Robert, probably.’
I gathered myself. Put the steeliest look I could muster on my face and said, ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
That put him in his place.
Now we’re about to be on our own. The last two people are saying their hurried goodbyes. Josh has pretty much thrown them all out, telling them he’ll see them on Monday. Being all matey, as if nothing has happened. So it’s about to be just me and him.
As he corrals them to the door I find my mobile and try Robbie’s number. Sod protocol. He answers almost immediately.
‘What the fuck?’
‘Are you OK?’ I say, meaning, ‘This hasn’t made you change your mind, has it?’ but knowing he’ll take it at face value.
‘Did you have any idea?’ he splutters.
‘God, no! None.’
‘In front of all our friends!’
‘Where are you now?’ I say. I can hear Joshie saying his final goodbyes.
‘Driving home.’
‘Where’s Paula?’
‘No idea,’ he says. ‘Fuck her, humiliating me like that.’
‘Call me tomorrow. Or I’ll call you, OK? And drive carefully.’
‘I will,’ he says, sounding a bit calmer. ‘You know I love you, don’t you?’
A weight lifts off my shoulders. ‘You, too. And, listen,’ I say, whispering now. ‘Don’t tell her anything. We can come out of this smelling of roses.’
