by Jill Mansell
‘Tony Weston.’
‘I’ve heard that name!’ Martha clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘You are famous! You were in that film about the two brothers… ooh, what was it called… Mr and Mr Black!’
‘That’s right.’
‘I heard all about it on the radio! They said you were very good.’
Tony smiled. ‘They were right.’
‘I always mean to go to the cinema, then I never get round to it. You must think I’m completely hopeless. I should have known who you were!’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘Oh God!’ This time she clutched the side of her head. ‘I just had sex with a film star!’
‘Fantastic sex,’ Tony corrected.
‘Fantastic sex. Absolutely. God, sorry, I’ve come over all unnecessary now. This is just bizarre.’
‘Can I tell you something?’ He traced the tips of his fingers along her collarbone. ‘It’s the most miraculous thing that’s happened to me in years.’
Martha nodded, her eyes filling up. She whispered, ‘Me too. When do you go back to the States?’
‘The day after tomorrow. You could come with me.’ But she was already shaking her head.
‘I can’t. But thank you. Oh my word, is that the time? I didn’t realize it was so late.’ Pulling on a white cotton robe, she said, ‘I have to be somewhere by six. And you haven’t had a proper look yet at the other paintings…’
***
‘Oh, wow, look at those. They’re so… happy!’ Home from work, Ellie encountered the four paintings lined up on the sofa. She pointed to the Primrose Hill picture. ‘That’s the one you told me about last night. Did she give you all of these?’
Tony shook his head. ‘I paid for them. We went back to her house and she showed me her work. I bought the other three.’ He kept the rest to himself. Much as he longed to talk about Martha, he was Ellie’s father-in-law; there was no way he could tell her what else he’d done this afternoon.
‘You should buy paintings more often.’ Ellie was smiling at him. ‘It suits you.’
His soul was singing. If only she knew. ‘I might do that.’
***
The next morning was taken up with meetings, followed by lunch in Soho with an old actor friend he couldn’t let down. By two thirty, as the taxi took him to Tufnell Park, Tony’s heart was flick-flacking away in his chest. Fifty-five years old, and he felt like a teenager on a first date.
This was unbelievable. It had never occurred to him that something like this could happen. At his age too. Love—or something perilously close to it—at first sight. Martha, Martha, just saying her name in his head gave him a thrill.
They reached Lanacre Road and he paid off the cab. Turned to look at the topaz-yellow front door. Martha. He’d barely been able to sleep last night for thinking about her and reliving every second of yesterday. He raised his hand and rang the bell. What would she be wearing today? It would be their last time together for weeks; would she let him spend the night here? If she did, he’d have to phone Ellie and come up with some plausible fib as to why he wasn’t coming home.
The door opened and there was Martha, wearing a violet shift dress and looking… completely different. As if seeing him on her doorstep was the very last thing she wanted. Even her head was shaking fractionally from side to side as she said, ‘Oh hello, is this about the paintings? I’m afraid it’s a bit of an awkward time.’
‘Who is it, Martha?’ Behind her, another woman came into view. Older, Afro-Caribbean, taller, and thinner, with gray hair and sensible shoes. Over Martha’s shoulder she surveyed him with an unwavering, miss-nothing gaze.
‘Nobody, just someone interested in my work…’
What’s going on?
‘My name’s Tony.’ He held out his hand to Martha and shook it, then reached past her and said pleasantly, ‘Hello there. Tony Weston.’
Forced to shake his hand, the gray-haired woman nodded briefly in return. She had a tight bony grip and a habit of blinking slowly like an owl.
‘Could I come in? I’ve sent my taxi away now.’
Martha swallowed and said fearfully, ‘OK, just for five minutes.’ The prospect clearly didn’t thrill her but she stepped aside. Tony followed the older woman into the living room.
‘I’ll bring the pictures down.’ Hurrying upstairs, Martha said, ‘Eunice, why don’t you make Mr Weston a cup of tea?’
Eunice raised an eyebrow. ‘Are we a café now?’
‘It’s fine, don’t worry.’ So much for charming her into submission. Yet again Tony smiled and failed to get a response. ‘I’m a great fan of Mrs Daines’s work. Are you a friend of hers?’ Because if she was, he was going to have to reassess Martha’s taste in friends.
‘Sister-in-law.’
‘Oh.’ Did that mean Eunice was the ex-husband’s sister? Or was she married to Martha’s brother? And could he ask her that? No, of course he couldn’t.
In less than thirty seconds Martha was back with an armful of mounted prints. One thing was for sure, she was like a cat on a hotplate. Every minute he was here under this roof was a minute too long. As soon as the paintings were spread out on the table, she said, ‘There you are, that’s all of them. Which one would you like?’
The tension in the room was palpable, like an overdose of air freshener. Realizing he was in a no-win situation, Tony put her out of her misery and pointed. ‘I’ll have that one.’
‘Excellent.’ Martha managed a smile and exhaled with relief. ‘Good choice.’
And that was it. Within four minutes of ringing the front doorbell, he found himself being propelled back out onto the pavement. With a painting under his arm and his plans for the rest of the day well and truly scuppered. On his way out he said in desperation, ‘Could I have your number, in case I wanted to buy another one?’
Eunice replied crisply, ‘She doesn’t hand out her telephone number to strangers. Do you, Martha?’
Martha swallowed. ‘If you want to contact me about my work, my email address is on my website.’
‘Fine, I’ll do that then.’ Pointedly Tony said, ‘I’m going to be out of the country for the next couple of weeks, but I’ll be back at the beginning of July.’
‘OK. Well, it’s been nice to meet you, Mr Weston.’ Clearly desperate to close the door, Martha said, ‘Enjoy your painting. Goodbye.’
‘Or I could give you my number?’ It was a last-ditch attempt; he so badly needed to speak to her before he left.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Eunice coolly intervened. ‘Why would she want to phone you?’
Because we spent yesterday afternoon in bed together, you bloody interfering old witch. And I’m in love with her.
But of course Tony didn’t say this out loud.
Chapter 17
‘Can you get that?’ Ellie was busy scrubbing her favorite Havaianas flip-flops in the sink when the doorbell went on Saturday morning.
Todd pressed the button on the intercom and waited.
‘Hi, it’s me.’ Roo’s voice echoed tinnily through the speaker. ‘I’m heading out on an undercover mission. Want to come along?’
‘What an offer.’ Todd launched into his Sean Connery impression. ‘Shall we go in my vintage Aston Martin?’
A split second of silence, then, ‘James Bond, is that you?’
‘Shweetheart, I’m afraid that’s classified information. I could tell you, but then I’d have to seduce you.’
‘Let her in.’ Ellie switched off the tap and rinsed the soap off her pink flip-flops. This was going to be interesting; how would her old friend and her new friend hit it off?
Roo bounded up the stairs and into the flat in a black and white checked shirt, white denim skirt, and black Uggs.
‘I can guess who you are.’ She waggled her fingers at Todd. ‘But do you really have an Aston Martin?’
‘Sorry.’
‘See? Now I’m disappointed. And you don’t look like Sean Connery either.’
‘I�
�m younger than he is. I’m funnier,’ said Todd. ‘Plus, I have hair.’
‘What’s this mission in aid of?’ Ellie finished patting the flip-flops dry with paper towels and put them on her feet.
‘OK, Niall came over last night. And while he was in the loo I happened to find a shopping list in his jacket pocket. Nothing exciting, just nappies and baby wipes and stuff. But it was written in girly handwriting on a Post-it note with the name of a beauty salon printed along the top.’ Roo narrowed her eyes in a sleuth-like fashion. ‘Now, Niall’s always refused to tell me where his wife works. So I rang the salon this morning and asked if Yasmin was in today… and she is! And guess what? I’ve booked an appointment with her for this afternoon! We can go together!’
Ellie pulled a face. How could anyone think this was a good idea?
‘Who’s Niall?’ said Todd.
Roo looked at him. ‘My boyfriend.’
‘He has a wife?’
‘Yes, but she’s awful.’
‘And there’s a baby?’
‘That’s the only reason he’s still with his wife.’
‘What are you doing having an affair with a married man?’
‘I love him. And he loves me.’
‘Where’s your self-respect?’
Roo stiffened. ‘What’s your problem?’
‘Look, shall we talk about something else?’ Ellie was keen to cool the situation down.
‘No, let’s not.’ Todd turned to Roo. ‘When I was a kid, my father had an affair with another woman. He walked out on me and my mum. I just happen to think wrecking other people’s marriages is a pretty low thing to do.’
Roo said defensively, ‘Trust me, Niall’s marriage was wrecked long before I came along.’
‘So why have you made an appointment at this place?’ said Ellie.
‘Because I want to see her. I just want to find out for myself what she’s like. I’m not going to do anything,’ Roo protested. ‘She won’t know who I am. Oh, please come with me,’ she begged. ‘It’ll be easier to have a conversation with the two of us. And then you’ll be able to tell thingy here that I’m not a complete monster.’
Todd was ice-cool. ‘Thingy can make up his own mind, thanks.’
Oh dear. Off to a rocky start.
***
The salon was in Hampstead. From the outside it was all subtle shades of rose-pink and cream. Inside it smelled like heaven. Ellie had never paid a visit to a beauty salon before; given the choice of how to spend thirty pounds, she’d choose a bottle of bubble bath and a new top every time. When it came to waxing and manicures she had always done her own. But never mind that now. They were here on a mission. Roo was more nervous than she was letting on. And the woman behind the reception desk with the terrifying ice-queen face and scraped-back hair could be Niall’s wife.
‘Twelve thirty… let me see…’ She ran a ferocious crimson nail down the appointments book. ‘Yes, there you are. Just take a seat and Yasmin will be with you very shortly.’
So, not the ice queen then.
They sat and waited and watched one of the other customers have a pedicure. Within two minutes the door to the salon burst open and a woman in her twenties rushed in with a multipack of nappies under one arm and a carrier bag from Lloyds the chemist in the other.
Having stowed them in the back room, she returned. ‘Hello, sorry to keep you waiting, just had to dash out to the shops. I’m Yasmin. Gosh, if your hair was different you’d look like that singer from years ago. What’s her name… thingummy… Daisy Deeva.’
‘I get that all the time.’ Roo pulled a face. ‘I saw her once, in Selfridges. She was buying a really horrible hat.’
‘Wouldn’t mind her money though, eh?’ Yasmin didn’t seem like a nightmare. She was smiling and friendly, with wavy, honey blond hair and pretty eyes. ‘Now, I hear you asked for me specially. Does that mean you know one of my regular clients?’
Caught off guard, possibly by her niceness, Roo said, ‘Um…’
‘We were in a wine bar yesterday,’ Ellie leapt in, ‘and a girl at the next table was telling her friend how great you are at manicures. She had beautiful nails, so we asked her where you worked.’
‘Oh wow, how brilliant! I wonder who it was?’ Beaming with delight, Yasmin said, ‘Let’s hope you’re happy too!’
The conversation was all about nails for the next few minutes, as she got to work on Roo. Ellie watched as the hands were painstakingly cleansed and moisturized, a scrub containing exfoliating crystals was applied, then some kind of special oil was rubbed into the nails and cuticles. Finally Roo said, ‘I saw you with the nappies. Does that mean you have a baby?’
Yasmin grinned. ‘Well, they’d be a bit small for me. Yes, we’ve got a boy, Benjamin. Seven months. He’s just adorable.’ Her eyes were shining. ‘I can’t believe the difference he’s made to our lives. How about you?’
‘Kids? Me? No.’ Roo shook her head, then clearly realized a child might come in handy. Indicating Ellie, she said, ‘She’s got one.’
Oh, great. Thanks a lot.
Yasmin turned to her. ‘Have you? Aren’t they fantastic? Boy or a girl?’
‘Girl.’ Ellie nodded and prayed they weren’t about to start swapping childbirth stories. ‘Five months. Her name’s Alice.’
‘Ah, that’s lovely.’ Cheerily Yasmin said, ‘Hard work, though, aren’t they? Does your chap help out much, or is he as useless as mine?’
Luckily her attention was on the job in hand so she didn’t see Roo’s eyelashes bristling.
Ellie said, ‘Not much. They’re all pretty useless, aren’t they?’
‘Tell me about it! My husband was supposed to be buying those nappies yesterday, and what happens? He comes home at midnight, says he had to work late, but it’s just a big fib. He wasn’t working. I know exactly where he was!’
Roo swallowed.
‘Where was he?’ said Ellie.
‘Out with his friends, of course! It’s that old meet-up-with-your-mates-on-a-Friday-night thing. He just can’t give it up. I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but he promised to come home with the baby wipes and the nappies.’ Yasmin shook her head. ‘Still, that’s men for you. They can’t multitask like us, can they?’
Ellie looked at the narrow wedding ring glinting on Yasmin’s left hand. ‘What’s he like with the nappies?’
Smiling, Yasmin said, ‘He changed three-quarters of a nappy once. I’m telling you, that was a sight to behold. You’d have thought he was detonating an unexploded bomb. It was hilarious. There now, let’s just wrap your hands in warm towels to let the moisturizers sink in. And you can choose which color nail polish you’d like…’
‘But he must do it sometimes.’ Ellie frowned. ‘I mean, like today, while you’re here working.’
‘Oh, he’s not looking after him now.’ More amused resignation. ‘Niall likes his lie-ins on a Saturday morning. I drop Benjamin off at my mum’s before I come into work.’
‘This is interesting,’ Ellie murmured when Yasmin disappeared to attend to another client. Roo must be devastated to discover that her boyfriend’s wife was so nice.
‘See? I told you she was a nightmare,’ Roo whispered back. ‘She’s just a complete control freak.’
***
Todd was waiting for them in the pub watching tennis on the giant TV screen up on the wall.
‘Well? How’d it go?’
‘I had my nails done.’ Roo showed him her hands. ‘Actually, she did a good job.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ Todd’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘What was she like?’
‘Lovely,’ said Ellie.
‘Oh please, that’s not fair.’ Roo shook her head. ‘She was pretending to be lovely because she was doing my nails. She’s at work, I’m her client, of course she’s going to put on a good show. But you could tell what she’s really like.’
‘She was great,’ Ellie insisted. ‘Cheerful, warm, working her socks off. Do you want my honest opinion?’
‘No.’ Roo was busy fiddling with her sunglasses.
‘Niall sounds like an arse.’
‘You’re biased.’
‘Because he’s an arse.’
‘I wish I’d never taken you along with me now.’
‘And Yasmin’s like a single mother,’ Ellie went on. ‘She does everything and he does nothing.’ How could Roo not see it?
‘Because when he does try to do anything, she tells him he’s doing it all wrong!’
‘He told her he was working last night. But he wasn’t, he was with you.’
Roo was defensive. ‘If he goes home, all she does is nag him.’
‘Probably because she’s exhausted looking after the baby on her own!’
‘Look, she was exaggerating, making herself sound hard done by to get the sympathy vote.’
Todd, his head swiveling between them, said, ‘This is better than the tennis. So come on, are you going to finish with this bloke?’
‘Don’t be so horrible! I love him!’
He looked exasperated. ‘The guy’s a liar and a cheat.’
‘Everyone tells lies.’ Their drinks arrived and Roo took a gulp of hers. ‘You should have heard Ellie going on about her baby.’
‘What baby?’
Roo spread her arms. ‘I rest my case.’
But Todd had missed the joke; he was busy staring at Ellie. ‘Are you pregnant?’
Ellie spluttered into her glass of wine. ‘No! How could I be pregnant? We just pretended I had a baby so we’d have something in common.’ She saw the look of relief on his face. ‘It was a white lie, that’s all. Harmless.’
‘Speaking of white.’ Roo checked her watch, knocked back the rest of her vodka, and ruffled her spiky white-blond hair. ‘I’ve got an appointment to get my roots done, so I’m off. Have fun watching the tennis without me.’ She looked at Todd. ‘I’d say it was nice to meet you, but that would be another lie.’
He said pleasantly, ‘That’s because I’m right and you’re wrong. And you know it.’
***
The tennis had evolved into a tense five-set match that had got everyone in the pub cheering and on their feet. Afterwards Ellie and Todd went out for pizza, before heading off to a club in Camden to see a band.
