Harper's Fate

by F. C. Clark

  So, you do not feel like sharing your odd behaviour in case I do not approve? It takes a lot to shock me, Kate Harper… However, you are, as you stated, within your rights to disclose information as and when you please.

  I do not require a meal this evening, and that goes for the weekend too. You do not have to worry that I will starve. I have already informed the British Red Cross…

  You may leave early.

  Boss x

  No meal… He’s going out… Where? Oh fuck, I bet he has a girlfriend. The anguish in the pit of my stomach is out of control. Shit, shit, shit… I’m consumed with jealousy that he has a life that doesn’t involve me. I’m lost in an emotional turmoil over my elusive kinky old codger.

  * * *

  Stella is already seated in Café Rouge with two coffees. I check my watch, wondering if I’m late. No – it’s midday; I’m right on time.

  ‘Hi Stella.’ I take the seat opposite her.

  ‘Kate, how are you?’

  ‘Good, what about you?’

  ‘Extremely busy,’ she chuckles to herself. ‘I’m sure I always say that to you.’

  ‘You do.’

  ‘How has your week been? I’ve heard you’re turning your hand to gardening.’ She smiles as though the thought amuses her.

  ‘I’m not sure “gardener” will be on my CV any time soon; I’m more like Jerry’s lackey. He’s actually really bossy!’ I smile, as we both know that Jerry is a sweetheart. ‘I can’t deny that my life is a little testing. I’m sure I have the starring role in Stepford Wives, minus the husband, children and of course the house.’ I raise my brows.

  ‘One day, Kate, one day.’

  ‘I’m not in a rush to get married. You know I’m single – right?’

  ‘I guessed as much.’

  ‘My friend is pregnant, the first one of our pack… I’m still a bit shocked.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news.’

  ‘It’s really exciting.’

  ‘So, you need to find yourself a suitable man.’

  ‘Yes – if you hear of one send him in my direction. I must go to the worst places in the world; the men I meet are really scraping the barrel… Spinster-hood, here I come.’ I raise my coffee.

  ‘Oh, Kate, you make me laugh, as I said before – you are a breath of fresh air. Your turn will come, I can feel it.’

  I hope she’s right.

  ‘I’ve been given permission to leave early today.’ Did that come across as probing? I’m hoping it was a gentle nudge for information: where is my kinky old codger going this evening? Who will he be with? What is he doing over the weekend?

  ‘Yes, I heard he’s taking his friend’s wife out for dinner.’ Stella looks directly into my eyes. I can’t work out if the information was leaked for my benefit.

  ‘And you, Kate, what are your plans?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. I’m home alone this weekend – my sister has gone to France to meet her boyfriend’s family and I don’t have to work this evening so maybe I should go out. But I fancy a lazy night in front of the TV.’

  ‘I know what you mean. I had a slice of your Victoria sponge this week. It was delicious; you’re not very good for my diet.’

  ‘I’ll make you a fat-free cake… but I can’t promise it will taste good.’ We both laugh.

  ‘Is everything OK at the house? Do you need anything?’

  ‘Everything is fine. Actually, I wanted to ask if I might use the pool. The forecast is for hotter weather. I understand if the answer is no; I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.’ I babble.

  ‘I don’t see why not… Well, take it as a yes and if there is a problem I will contact you, but I am positive it will be fine.’

  We sit and chat about our lives outside our Friday meetings. Talking about work proves to be a little difficult, due to the anonymity clause.

  We say our goodbyes. I return to the palace and collect my bags and leave for the weekend. I close the black door feeling redundant, which is ridiculous. It was kind of my boss to say I can leave early, so why do I feel like I have been ostracised?

  6

  The noise hits me as I enter my house. This can only mean one thing.

  ‘Barney, is that you?’

  Dance music blasts from the speakers at such a high volume that my neighbours will hear it – except my neighbour is here, in my house. I head towards the lounge, and there he is, in full dance mode.

  ‘Here she is, sexy girl! It’s Friday! Whoop whoop!’ Barney begins his mating dance, trying to cajole me to move with him.

  My arms protectively fold and my foot taps against the floor.

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘Come on, Misery Guts. Has the old codger upset you? Boo hoo – what did you expect from a kinky old bastard? It’s just us tonight. I got us a table somewhere special. Wait for it… Can I have a drum roll… Vista! I know, you’re such a lucky girl. You can thank me later.’ Barney turns the volume down and walks towards me. He senses that I will need a little – maybe a lot of – persuasion to get the party started.

  ‘Please, Kate. I got the gig that I went for – you know, the new dance musical, contemporary ballet and modern jazz? I deserve a celebration.’ He nudges my shoulder and pouts, giving me his best sulky expression. ‘Besides, it took a lot of effort to get this reservation. Even Kiki hasn’t managed to wangle a table yet… Please.’ He gives me his sad face, killing me with his eyes.

  ‘By “a lot of effort”, do you mean you fucked the maître d’?’ I glare at him, knowing his interpretation of ‘effort’.

  ‘Well, if you put it like that, then yes – but it takes a lot of effort to perform to my usual standard – you know I don’t fuck and run, baby.’

  ‘I bet you make them all feel real special. Only you can use your dick as a compass.’

  ‘Obviously, I do have a rep to uphold, baby girl. Now, please don’t make me go down on one knee and beg.’ He stands with his hands on his hips, clearly not going to take no for an answer.

  ‘Fine. If it gets you off my case, then yes.’ Cheese was my date this evening.

  ‘Good answer, Harper. You have an hour to get ready. My clothes are upstairs.’

  Am I that predictable?

  Scanning my wardrobe, I choose a black silk jumpsuit that tapers at the legs and is nipped in at the waist with a very low front and even lower back. Very flattering. With my hair poker-straight and my usual feline evening make-up – blacked-out eyes and nude lipstick – I look very chic, without too much effort involved.

  I hear a wolf whistle.

  ‘You look hot to trot.’ Barney’s always full of compliments. Besides, male compliments have been sparse of late, therefore I’ll take whatever I can get.

  ‘Thanks, Barney. Now, what shoes?’ I point to my line of black shoes. They’re all similar all have killer heels.

  ‘Definitely the strappy shoe boot – sexy with a capital S.’

  Barney is wearing his signature ‘I’m too sexy’ look: black skinny jeans hanging on his hips, a black V-necked T-shirt and a leather biker jacket. He looks as though he’s just completed a shoot for Italian Vogue.

  ‘Barney, you look stunning. I hate going out with you; I look like the poor bloody relation when we stand together, especially when people think we’re a couple. They take pity on me.’ I laugh. This is true. Barney is so handsome – but I like my men more rugged – oh, and not gay.

  ‘Well, what can I say? You either have it or you don’t.’ He shrugs off his undeniable good looks.

  Vista looks very chic. Barney is like the cat that got the cream as we walk past a sea of customers who appear to be queuing just to enter the wine bar, let alone the restaurant. For the first time tonight I’m pleased I said yes. We take the lift up to the roof terrace bar and restaurant.

  The location is magnificent. Th
e panoramic views of London are breathtaking, especially on such a beautiful evening. The restaurant is buzzing, heaving with people. The general atmosphere is drawing me in, and I feel instantly relaxed.

  Barney greets the maître d’ – or Roberto, as I heard Barney call him – with a warm embrace. We are shown to our well positioned table. Barney is elated that his new found friendship (with who he calls a ‘fuck buddy’) appears to have become a very profitable relationship.

  We share a mixed starter, and both order steak for our main course. It is cooked superbly. I’m extremely impressed, and full – too full for dessert. The bottle of champagne hits the spot, relaxing us both (mainly me, as Barney rarely needs any help to relax).

  ‘Thanks for tonight. You were right – it’s totally what I needed.’ I sigh, then smile. ‘I know I would have sat at home losing myself to car-crash TV and far too much cheese if you hadn’t dragged me out.’

  He takes hold of my hands, reinforcing our act of star-struck lovers, not friends and neighbours.

  ‘I knew you needed this, babe – Barney always knows best. So why the glum face? I thought you liked your new job.’

  ‘I do – mixed emotions, I think.’ Shit, today is proving to be testing. ‘Maybe getting a new job will help. Let’s not forget it’s nearly my birthday… I’m getting older. Nearly twenty-seven, and to be honest I thought I would be more settled, and I think my period is due.’

  ‘Well, that explains it – hormonal, that’s what you are.’

  We both laugh. I’m not willing to share the truth – I’m brooding over my boss.

  Barney insists that we continue our evening of insobriety. I feel exhausted, but Barney has been a superstar tonight, paying for the entire evening. He has also agreed to stay with me for the weekend – I hate sleeping in the house alone.

  With the decision made, I have a serious conversation with my shoes and ask them to behave. We make our way towards the lift.

  I stop in my tracks. I recognise the man in the black suit standing at the bar. Holy fuck! I dart behind a pillar close to where the man is standing. Damn! he’s between me and the lift – the only exit.

  Barney stops, realising I’m no longer walking in his shadow. I watch a confused look spread across his face.

  ‘Psst… Barney – over here,’ I whisper from behind the pillar.

  Curiously, he moves towards my hiding place. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ I whisper, hoping that Barney will get the gist of the game we’re playing, except the penny hasn’t dropped yet.

  ‘Oh my God… The Adonis is here at the bar.’

  Barney looks at me, slightly confused.

  ‘You know, Prince Charming? I left my underwear in his office.’ Why do I need to explain? Barney needs to keep up to speed.

  ‘Oh, him… No fucking way.’

  ‘Yes way… Standing at the bar. Two o’clock to your right. He’s the shit-hot guy in a black suit; you can’t miss him.’ Barney still looks confused.

  ‘What?’ I am exasperated by his hopeless detective skills.

  ‘I struggle with analogue, babe; I’m digital all the way,’ he says.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Barney, move slowly to the right of the pillar and you should be able to see him.’

  Barney, far too obviously for my liking, moves to the side.

  ‘Yeah, I see him. Fuck me, babe, he’s gorgeous – hmm, do you know if he’s gay?’

  I hit him, not too hard, as I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention in our direction.

  ‘No, he isn’t… Is he with someone?’

  ‘Hmm… I can’t see. Oh, no, wait… Yes, definitely not alone. Oh – I see a woman, very attractive – quite exotic.’

  I hit him again.

  ‘Ow – what was that for?’

  ‘“Yes” is sufficient. I don’t need you to elaborate on how stunning she is.’

  ‘Kate, I’ve never seen you look so green with envy.’ Barney obviously finds this highly amusing, unlike me.

  ‘We need a plan to get out of here without him seeing me. Call for the lift and then once you’re inside, hold the door for me. Get ready to push the close button the instant I get in. Got it, or shall I go over the plan again? Your spying skills are a little… shit.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got it, you condescending bitch,’ he snarls at me with a smile; however, he knows I’m right. ‘Babe, I don’t understand why don’t you go over and say hello.’

  ‘Because you look like you – shit-hot. You’ve seen what he looks like and… well, I’m not in the same league. I think that’s all we need to say on the matter.’

  ‘No, that isn’t… You’re stunning, a real beauty – why don’t you see that. I think you would make a good-looking couple.’

  ‘Are you forgetting something, Cupid? He’s here with someone.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re here with me; that doesn’t mean I’m fucking you.’

  ‘The answer is no, just go and get the bloody lift.’ I almost push him in the direction of the lift.

  ‘OK, keep your underwear on. We wouldn’t want you to leave it anywhere for someone to find, would we?’ Barney walks off, laughing.

  I glare at him. Scowling will have to do as I can’t scream.

  My back rests against the pillar. The Adonis was the last person I expected to see this evening. Although our encounter was only a few weeks ago and a lot has happened since, I feel nauseous. I’m not sure if it’s the food, the alcohol or seeing this man, stirring up feelings inside me that need to be sated by someone… Or should I say, him…

  I’m forced out of my thoughts by the sound of someone calling me. Oh my God, he hasn’t just shouted out my bloody name. Please, ground, open up and swallow me. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  I peer round the pillar. I don’t think anyone has heard my shit detective friend call my name. He will be lucky to reach the ground floor when I get hold of him.

  I slowly move round the pillar, not once turning to look behind me. However, my only view is of Barney holding the lift door, waving at me like a madman. What the fuck is he doing? I said don’t draw attention to yourself, but he may as well be standing naked in the middle of the restaurant.

  Kate, keep calm, no one has noticed your friend calling and waving at you like a demented human being.

  My first foot enters the lift, and I can hear it. Someone calling my name. This time it’s not Barney.

  ‘Shut the door, Barney. Press the bloody button.’

  ‘OK, OK, I’m trying.’

  ‘Kate, Kate, is that you?’

  From a distance I hear the baritone voice. It ricochets through me; I turn to see him walking towards the lift. Our identical dark eyes lock as the doors begin to close. Dark and magnetic meet dark and confused.

  The doors shut. I rest my limp and exhausted body in the corner of the lift.

  ‘Kate, are you all right?’ Barney’s face becomes full of concern.

  I nod, unable to talk. With no warning, tears begin to stream down my cheeks, a result of the emotions that have been pent up inside me all day.

  ‘I think we should get you home.’

  Barney reaches over and pulls me to his chest, which makes my tears fall more ferociously, for reasons I really don’t understand. It can’t just be seeing him – or is it? I question my theory of not returning his shirt. Truthfully, I was scared to admit how I felt about a complete stranger. What is it with me and men who are out of my reach?

  ‘I don’t want to ruin your night, Barney.’ I manage to say.

  ‘You’re my best friend, and when I think you’ve had enough, it’s my duty to get you home, tucked up in bed, wearing your sexy fluffy PJs.’ He knows his description of my passion-killers would make me laugh.

  ‘Thanks, Barney, and sorry for being a pain in the arse. I’ll
make French toast… and would you sleep in my bed tonight? I don’t feel like being alone.’ His arms remain wrapped around me, giving me the security I need.

  ‘Of course, babe… I have to warn you that I will wake up with a huge hard-on but I really don’t want to shag you. It’s just what my body does in the morning – OK?’

  Barney is always the comedian, with perfect timing of course, providing the light in my life.

  ‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll try not to jump you…’

  Waking up on Monday morning, after an emotionally turbulent weekend, I’m ready to face another week of cooking – and try to forget about Friday.

  Today is a scorcher. I decide to make use of the pool. My chef’s outfit appears to be getting smaller: today I’m in a black triangle bikini, denim shorts and my black T-shirt printed with I LOVE THE SOUTH OF FRANCE – my holiday souvenir.

  Hearing the black door unlock, I instantly feel at home. My job has become a place of contentment, even though it’s someone else’s house.

  I never realised before, but the house has air conditioning and it hits me instantly. Wow, that feels good. Entering the kitchen, I see Jerry working.

  ‘Hi, how are you?’

  ‘Not bad, flower.’ He lifts his head and smiles, before returning his gaze to the wiring resting on the countertop. ‘Hot one today.’

  ‘It’s boiling outside. I’m knackered from the walk here.’

  ‘I’m not working outside in this heat; I’ll bloody melt.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Good job we’ve got air conditioning – this is my kind of temperature.’ He points to a vent above his head.

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t realise. So, definitely no gardening today?’

  He shakes his head. ‘No.’

  ‘I did ask Stella if I could use the pool, and she said that it would be OK.’

  ‘Go for it. It’s just been cleaned this morning. No one uses it. It’s a bloody waste if you ask me.’ Jerry speaks without looking up.

  Before I complete my errands I check the fridge – but not for food. Nothing – no note. I slap myself mentally. I refuse to feel dejected about something I have no control of.