by Susan Lewis
As she strolled back through the evening sunshine she began wrangling with herself over whether or not she should call Michael. It seemed only polite to thank him for letting her know how the private investigators were getting on, but when she tried his number she was diverted to voicemail. ‘Hi, it’s Susannah,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your message. I appreciate you keeping me informed. Uh, well, I guess that’s about it. I hope you’re well and happy with what you’ve seen of the programmes so far.’
As she rang off she was already wishing she hadn’t added the last bit, in case it sounded as though she was fishing for compliments. However, it was too late to take it back now, and she could hardly call again to assure him it hadn’t been her intention, so trying to push it from her mind she connected to Alan’s number.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ she said when he answered. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Actually, I’m just sitting here having a nice little chat with Neve,’ he told her.
Her heart immediately jolted, as much with guilt that she hadn’t rung Neve today, as with the hope that things were as relaxed between them as Alan’s tone was suggesting. ‘How is she?’ she asked, aware that he might not want to give a full answer with Neve right there, but needing to ask anyway.
‘Fine. She’s looking lovely, thanks to a bit of a tan she picked up at the weekend.’
‘Can I speak to her?’
‘Uh, maybe tomorrow.’
Understanding that he was probably at some crucial point in their discussion, she said, ‘If you get the chance and feel it’s appropriate, please tell her how much I love and miss her.’
‘Of course.’
‘Has she mentioned anything about the baby?’
‘Not really, but I think it’s OK. I’ll call you later, before you go to sleep.’
Not until she’d rung off did she realise that she’d forgotten to ask where he and Neve were. ‘Sitting here having a nice little chat,’ was what he’d said, and she supposed she’d assumed they were at home, possibly in the garden given how warm it was, but now she realised that wasn’t very likely. Still, wherever they were, in a park, outside a pub, or at Lola’s, it was lightening her mood to know that Neve was communicating with someone, even though she’d have far preferred that someone to be her.
It was as she was about to climb into bed that she received a text from Michael saying Very happy with programmes I’ve seen. Am in New York all of next week. If any developments while I’m away lawyers will contact Marlene. Goodnight. M.
She sat looking at the message for a long, long time, hardly aware of what she was thinking, or even feeling. Then her thoughts moved on to Neve and Alan and her eyes slowly drifted closed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AFTER SPENDING EIGHT days at the Bryce offices in Geneva, then Prague, Patsy made a brief return to Paris to clear her desk before decamping to London for the following three weeks. Since she and Frank hadn’t seen one another for so long, he insisted on accompanying her on the journey, and spending the entire weekend helping her to settle into the serviced apartment she’d rented in Knightsbridge.
Having such a distraction as him around meant that it was Sunday lunchtime before Pats finally got to see Susannah.
‘Frank’s very demanding,’ she’d informed her when they spoke on Saturday night to make arrangements. ‘I won’t go into any more detail than that, because I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself. Would you like us to pick up Lola on the way past?’
‘It’s OK, Alan will collect her when he goes over to Sasha’s for Neve,’ Susannah replied. ‘Come around midday and we can have a glass of champagne in the garden before we eat.’
At noon on the dot Pats and Frank clambered out of a black cab, arms loaded up with champagne, foie gras and a generous assortment of cosmetics not yet on the market. Leaving Frank to pay, Pats went off up the path to ring the bell, loving the very air of London, though perhaps not as much as she was now coming to love Paris.
‘Neve! Can you get it?’ she heard Susannah shout from somewhere inside. ‘It’ll be them.’
Thinking of Neve, Pats felt a pang in her conscience for not having been in touch with her over the past couple of weeks, but her days had been so full that she’d barely had time to eat, never mind to make personal calls – apart from to Frank, of course, but even they had been mainly about business. The only time she’d spoken to Susannah was for about five minutes while she was waiting at Prague airport on Thursday, and to her further dismay she realised they’d barely even mentioned Neve then. However, if Neve had been uppermost in Susannah’s mind, that was all they’d have talked about, so presumably the crisis of a fortnight ago, whatever it might have been, was over and past.
Indeed, when Neve pulled open the door, there were no indications, such as red eyes, that she was unhappy. She was looking as lovely as ever – not that Pats had really expected her to burst out in floods of tears, or to stage a tragic fling into her godmother’s arms. She did look a little thinner though, Pats thought, and her complexion seemed a tad blotchy, but that could be anything from the time of the month to staying up late watching TV.
‘How are you?’ Patsy said, dropping her packages and hugging her hard.
‘I’m fine,’ Neve answered, giving an unusually lacklustre hug back.
Noting it, but not commenting, Pats cupped her face between her hands, saying, ‘We’ve come bearing gifts and I think you’re going to like them.’
Neve glanced down at the glossy bags with their red ribbon ties, something she’d normally have pounced on. Today she only said, ‘Cool.’ Then, peering past Pats, ‘Is Frank here?’
‘Oh yes, he’s here,’ Pats answered, and turning around her eyes softened as she watched him pocketing his wallet with one hand, whilst hoisting a magnum of champagne with the other as he came in through the gate. ‘I know he’s a bit weird to look at,’ she muttered, ‘but he has a heart of gold and he’s an absolute demon in the sack.’
To her surprise Neve didn’t giggle, as she’d expected her to, she only watched Frank, and seemed about to shake hands with him when he thrust the champagne at Pats and opened his arms ready to kiss Neve on both cheeks. To Patsy’s amazement Neve shrank away, but then appeared to collect herself and allowed Frank to greet her in the normal French way.
‘This is Neve, my god-daughter,’ Patsy told him, eyeing Neve with growing concern.
‘Enchanté,’ Frank gushed with all his Gallic charm. ‘I am hearing so much about you that it is already like I know you. My name is Frank, by the way. I tell you this, because Patreesha keep forgetting who I am.’
To Patsy’s relief Neve laughed, then Susannah was coming down the hall, arms outstretched ready to hug them. ‘Pats, you’re positively blooming,’ she told her, hugging her tightly. And turning to Frank, ‘Welcome, Frank. We’ve heard so much about you that we’re in love with you already, aren’t we Neve? Please come in. Alan’s outside trying to set light to the neighbourhood, and Lola’s fanning herself down in a deckchair, too hot to get up.’
‘We have bring some champagne with us,’ Frank told her, as they followed her through to the kitchen. ‘And foie gras from the Périgord region, which is the very best foie gras. I will apologise now in case Patreesha become out of hand. She is a little wicked when she has the luxury food and sparkling wine inside her.’
Laughing delightedly as Pats rolled her eyes, Susannah called to Alan who came in, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. ‘Frank, welcome,’ he said, holding out a hand to shake. ‘It’s good to meet you. I’m sorry I don’t speak French.’
‘It is no problem, I am ’appy to speak English,’ Frank assured him.
‘Thank goodness, because I need to know how good you are at lighting barbecues. I’m having the devil of a time trying to get ours going.’
‘I will see if I can ’elp,’ Frank said, starting to follow him out. ‘I have much experience when I am younger, at the summer home of my family in Provence, but that i
s some years ago.’
As they disappeared into the garden, Pats turned to Susannah. ‘So what do you think?’ she whispered. ‘Weird, isn’t he?’
Susannah laughed. ‘First impressions, I absolutely adore him,’ she declared. ‘Anyone who can make you glow the way you are is always going to be a winner with me. Now, come on, let’s get this champagne open and some nibbles under way. Neve, where are you?’
Patsy glanced round but Neve had disappeared.
‘I swear that girl’s on an elastic that pings her straight back to her room the instant no one’s looking,’ Susannah grumbled.
‘How is she?’ Pats asked. ‘I wasn’t sure when I saw her. She looks a little, well, I guess peaky is the first word that comes to mind.’
Susannah grimaced. ‘She’s up and down, but I think she’s finally starting to get over all this nonsense with Alan. He feels sure she is, and he’s in a better position to know than the rest of us, as he’s the only one she’s talking to.’
Pats frowned. ‘Do you think he’s the right one to be doing that, as the object of her desires?’ she asked.
‘Ordinarily he wouldn’t, he tells me, but her issues are more paternal than she realises, so he’s trying to get her to work on that, and understand how it’s tied in with her feelings for him.’
Patsy nodded understanding. ‘Poor thing,’ she murmured. ‘She’s so young to be all mixed up and broken-hearted, but looking back, I suppose I was about her age when Jamie Stone dumped me. I still remember how I truly believed I’d never get over it.’
‘So do I,’ Susannah commented drily.
Giving her a playful shove, Pats pulled open a cupboard and started to take down some glasses as Susannah tackled the champagne.
‘How long’s Frank staying in London?’ Susannah asked, as she began easing out the cork.
‘Till tomorrow morning. If he weren’t needed in Paris he’d probably stay longer, but he’s got a particularly busy week ahead, and he has his son next weekend, so un fortunately we won’t be seeing one another again for at least a fortnight.’
Giving a sigh of satisfaction as the cork popped with such perfection that only a wisp of vapour escaped from the bottle, Susannah said, ‘When are you going to meet his son?’
‘I’m not sure. The wife’s the problem – apparently as soon as she knows about me she’s likely to start acting up, so we have to tread carefully. But don’t let’s depress ourselves with that now, tell me about you. You’re not showing yet, I see. How do you feel?’
‘Actually, not too bad considering how crazy my schedule’s been this past couple of weeks. Certainly a vast improvement on when I first found out, anyway.’
‘And Alan’s still over the moon?’
Susannah made a growling sound under her breath as she slanted her a look. Then, after checking he was out of earshot, ‘Between us, it’s driving me nuts. He rings me up at least five times a day checking to make sure I’m not riding, or overdoing things, or wanting to recommend some baby website or other. I have to keep reminding myself this is his first child so of course he’s excited and overattentive, not to mention an overnight expert on prenatal care and birthing methods. Beware, he can bore on for England if you get him on the subject, so please don’t.’
With a spark of amusement, Pats said, ‘You can count on me,’ and adding a slab of foie gras and some toasties to the tray of glasses she carried it out to the patio, where Frank was charming the blushes out of Lola, while Alan was hovering over a merrily flaming barbecue trying to decide what to put where.
After passing round the drinks, Pats went to sit beside Lola in the shade of a small cherry tree that looked almost as weary in the heat as its refugee. ‘So how are you enjoying having a famous niece?’ she asked, tapping her glass to Lola’s.
With a glowing smile Lola said, ‘Can’t hardly go anywhere without seeing her in the papers, or on the front of magazines these days. I miss her though, her being away all week, but don’t let on I said that, or it’ll only make her feel bad.’
‘My lips are sealed,’ Pats promised. ‘And what do you think of the programme?’
‘Oh, I love it, I do,’ Lola clucked proudly. ‘And I’m not just saying that because of Susannah. I think it’s really good. You know it’s up in the top four already, do you?’
Patsy nodded.
‘And so it should be. I reckon it’ll be number one before much longer, you see if I’m not right. Everyone’s talking about it – on the telly, in the papers, all my mates down the bingo. I’ve become quite the celebrity, myself, lately. They’ll miss me this week when I don’t turn up, because they love getting all the inside gen.’
‘Where are you going this week?’ Pats asked, taking a sip of her drink and smiling at Frank, who was gamely taking on the role of sous-chef to Alan.
‘Oh, nowhere,’ Lola answered. ‘I’ll just be at home. A couple of places came up last minute for a coach trip to Eastbourne, so Nora and Stan took them. She usually wheels me round there of a Wednesday, but it won’t hurt to miss a week.’
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Patsy said, ‘I’ll have a look at my schedule, and if I can swing it, I’ll come and take you myself. It’s years since I had a game of bingo, and it’ll be fun seeing all the old faces.’
Lola chuckled. ‘I expect they’d love to see you too,’ she told her, ‘but don’t go putting yourself out now. Like I said, it won’t hurt to miss a week, save me a couple of quid, apart from anything else. Not that I’m ever short these days with all the money Susannah keeps giving me for taking care of Neve. I don’t want it, but she won’t have it back, so I’m putting it away for a rainy day. Now,’ she said, after slurping down half her champagne in one go, ‘I want to hear about Prague. It’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to go, don’t ask me why, I just have, so I’ll fasten me seat belt and let you take me on a tour.’
Remembering again why she loved Lola so much, Pats delivered what she hoped was a reasonable description of the Czech capital, though having spent most of her time in hotels or meetings, it was a little scant on the kind of detail Lola was after. She’d heard about the luxury spas, and all the shopping around Wenceslas Square, but she also wanted to know if Pats had come across something called a strip crochet tour. ‘They was talking about it on the telly,’ she said, a wicked twinkle in her eyes, ‘and it didn’t sound to me as though it had very much to do with knitting.’
Laughing, Patsy said, ‘I have to wonder what kind of programmes you’re watching, and the answer’s no, I didn’t run into anything like that, but I rather suspect it’s more for stag parties than female execs. Like another drink?’
‘Oh, yes please,’ Lola replied, smacking her lips as she passed over her empty glass. ‘Lovely champagne.’ Then, with a nod towards Frank, ‘He’s a bit of all right too. Lovely and … you know, French.’
Treating her to a resounding kiss on the forehead, Patsy went into the kitchen for a refill, saying to Susannah, ‘Unless there’s something you need me to do, I think I’ll just pop upstairs to find out what’s going on with Neve. Lola’s glass is empty.’
Susannah glanced up from the dressing she was making. ‘It rarely stays full for long,’ she commented. ‘She’ll probably be asleep before we eat at this rate.’
On arriving at Neve’s bedroom door Pats found it firmly closed, and when she knocked, to her surprise, there was no reply. There wasn’t any music coming from inside either, or the sound of a TV, or of Neve chatting to one of her friends on the phone.
‘Are you in there?’ she called as she knocked again. ‘It’s me, Pats. Can I come in?’
There was still no response, but then she heard a kind of dragging noise and when it stopped the door swung open.
‘Hi,’ Patsy said, putting her head round and finding Neve sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘How come you’re up here all on your own?’ And how come the door was barricaded, she wondered, noticing the small armchair that was out of its normal position.
Neve o
nly shrugged and continued sitting on her hands while kicking her legs to and fro.
‘It’s really warm in here,’ Patsy said, looking up at the skylights. ‘Don’t they open?’
‘If you like,’ Neve replied. ‘The thing’s over there.’
Going to fetch the pole, Patsy unlocked the handles and drew down the windows. ‘There, that’s better,’ she said, ‘we’ve got a bit of air so we can breathe.’
After replacing the pole she turned to look at Neve, not sure what to say now she was here. To weigh straight in about broken hearts and how they healed would be clumsy and trite, and very probably inappropriate, since it would tell Neve that her mother and Alan had been discussing her – and not only between themselves.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?’ she ventured as an opener. ‘It seems to me like something is, and after the call you made a couple of weeks ago …’
Neve shook her head. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’
‘It does if it upset you that much. What was it about?’
Neve glanced at the door, then put her head down again.
Going to sit next to her, Pats slipped an arm round her shoulders. ‘Come on, you can tell me,’ she said gently. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m just a bit fed up, that’s all,’ Neve mumbled.
‘About anything in particular?’
‘No. I just am.’
‘Everything OK at school? When do you break up, by the way?’
‘In three weeks.’
‘So what plans do you have for the summer? Mum mentioned you’d changed your mind about going to Barcelona. Why’s that?’
‘I just have.’
‘But it’ll probably do you good to get away for a while, be in a different place with all your friends, no school or anything else to worry about.’
