by Susan Lewis
“Well, what do you say?”
She looked at him.
“How about it? You’ve been working so hard lately, I thought you could do with a break. We both could.”
Still she didn’t answer.
“Don’t you think it would be good to get away, just the two of us? The sun, the snow, all that fresh air and exercise. And the après-ski of course.” He didn’t mention anything about the group of people he had met at a pub while she was away who had invited him to join their party. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go without Jenneen; she would be paying.
“I don’t think I can, Matthew. Not right now.”
“I didn’t mean right away. In a couple of weeks, before the snow disappears. What do you say?”
“I don’t like ski-ing.”
“How do you know? You’ve never been.”
“It just doesn’t appeal.”
“You’ll love it, once you’re there.”
“I won’t. I’ll probably break my leg or something worse. No, Matthew, I don’t want to go ski-ing. But why don’t you go?” She deliberately didn’t make any reference to the fact that she knew he had no money.
“I don’t want to go without you. The whole point of a holiday is so that we can spend some time together.”
“It’s a nice thought, Matthew, but honestly, I just don’t fancy the idea.”
“It might grow on you.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Look, why don’t we talk about it later. I’m so tired now, I can hardly think straight.”
“Are you sure you should be holding this dinner party this evening? I mean, if you’re so tired. Why don’t I ring everyone and put them off. We can have a nice quiet evening, on our own.”
“No,” she said. “No. I haven’t seen anyone for three weeks, and it’s too late to put them off now anyway. If I get some sleep, I’ll be fine.” She had to face Kate again sooner or later. Please God, that she hadn’t really recognized her that night in the Casino.
He shrugged. “If you say so.” He went to sit beside her. “Do I get a kiss, before you disappear again?”
She closed her eyes, and smiled. When she opened them again, he was studying her, waiting for her to answer.
“You’ve hardly come near me since you came in.”
“I’m sorry.” She put her arms round him and he held her close, running his hand over her hair, gently kissing her face.
“It’s so good to have you back, Jenn,” he whispered, and he moved his mouth to find hers.
“OK,” he said as she pulled away, “off you go then, and get some sleep. I’ll go fetch the wine.” He pulled her to her feet. “What time do you want me to call you?”
“About six.”
“I’ll have a bath waiting for you.”
She was in the bedroom, slipping out of her dothes, when she heard a ring on the doorbell. Vaguely she wondered who it could be, but people often rang the wrong bell; it was probably for someone else in the block.
She pulled back the bedcovers, and slipped inside. The sheets were freshly laundered and she could have almost felt tender towards Matthew if she hadn’t known that he had done it with an ulterior motive in mind. She hadn’t been fooled for one minute about the ski-ing holiday.
There was a knock on the door, and Matthew poked his head round. “All right?”
“Mmm, wonderful.”
“There’s someone out here,” he said, “says she knows you and you’re expecting her.”
Jenneen frowned. “Who?” She hadn’t invited anyone round this afternoon.
“Her name’s Maggie. Maggie Dewar.”
Jenneen groaned, remembering. She sat up. “Where is she?”
“In the lounge.”
“Come in, dose the door,” she whispered.
Matthew looked confused. “Who is she?” he said as he crossed over to the bed.
Jenneen swung her legs out. “She’s the daughter of a friend of my mother’s.”
“But what’s she doing here?”
“She’s come down for some interview at a hairdresser’s in the West End.”
“That still doesn’t explain what she’s doing here.”
“I told her, in a rash moment, that she could stay here when she came down. I’d completely forgotten. My mother must have given her my address. I didn’t realize she was planning to come so soon.”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“What can I do with her? She’ll have to stay, I suppose. Oh damn it! What a bloody nuisance. Have you told her I’m here?”
Matthew nodded.
“Then I’ll have to get dressed again. Damn! Bloody damn!”
“No, don’t get up,” he said. “I told her you were having a nap so get back into bed, I’ll see to her. I’ll make up the bed in the spare room for her, shall I?”
“Yes,” said Jenneen. “Do you think we’ve got enough food for an extra one tonight?”
“Definitely. I went mad at Sainsbury’s.”
“I can imagine,” said Jenneen, raising an eyebrow. “Do you mind seeing to her?”
“Not at all. She seems quite a sweet kid. Go on now, get back into bed. I’ll call you at six.”
Jenneen did as she was told, and Matthew tucked her in and kissed her. Why, oh why did she make rash promises that she had no desire to keep?
As he had promised, Matthew called Jenneen at six and ran her a bath. She didn’t want to get out of bed, she had been fast asleep and was still tired.
She was surprised to hear voices as she came out of the bedroom, until she remembered that Maggie Dewar had arrived. She’d better go and say hello.
As she walked into the lounge, Jenneen noticed, with a flicker of annoyance, that Maggie and Matthew were already through the best pan of a bottle of wine. That was all she needed, a drunken teenager at her dinner party; and she was none too pleased with the way Matthew was drinking again lately. Still, that was his problem, and Maggie just better not be sick, that’s all.
Hiding her irritation she greeted Maggie warmly enough, and made her feel as welcome as she could. She needn’t have bothered. Maggie was obviously already quite well settled in, and seemed to have hit it off rather well with Matthew. But of course, she would remember Matthew from the drama series he had been in a couple of years ago, and no doubt from the few commercials he had done since. It took Jenneen no time at all to see that Maggie had done wonders for his ego.
Matthew went to get another glass. “Like some wine, Jenn?”
“No, not yet. I’ll go and have a bath first.”
“Anything I can do in the kitchen?”
“Yes, you could start the soup.”
“What are we having?”
“Cream of Brussels sprouts.”
“Ugh!” said Maggie, pulling a face. “Sprout soup!”
Jenneen looked at her, her annoyance thinly disguised.
“Just wait till you taste it,” said Matthew. “It’s delicious.”
Maggie looked unconvinced.
“What do I have to do?” Matthew said quickly, sensing the rich retort Jenneen was on the point of delivering.
She looked at him; obviously he wanted that holiday more than she had realized. “Make the stock first. There’s a recipe book in the kitchen, the big Reader’s Digest one. You’ll find the instructions in there.”
“OK.” He turned to Maggie. “Want to help?”
She shrugged, clearly the idea held no appeal.
Jenneen went off to the bathroom. She could tell already that this girl was going to be a trial to have around. Why did she have to come today? She was too young to be at one of their dinner parties, she would spoil it. Jenneen toyed with the idea of sending her to a hotel, but she knew Matthew would hear none of it, and she didn’t want an argument. Oh well, Maggie could be his responsibility. He could put her to bed when she crashed over, drunk.
She bathed and dressed quickly, wanting to get into the kitchen before too much damage was done.
“Look,” she said finally, when he had asked for the fifth time if there was anything else he could do. “Why don’t you take Maggie down to the wine bar? I’ll get on much better on my own.”
“I was only trying to help.”
“I know, and you’re wonderful. But I promise you, I’d rather be left alone. Too many cooks and all that.”
“I’d like to go to the wine bar,” Maggie piped up. “I’ve never been to a London wine bar.”
“They’re no different from anywhere else,” said Jenneen irritably.
“Come on then,” said Matthew, realizing he could only save the situation by doing as Jenneen wanted.
Maggie went to get her coat. “Make sure she only has orange juice,” Jenneen hissed.
Matthew nodded. “See you in about an hour, eh?”
“Make it an hour and a half. Everything should be well underway by then.”
An hour later, with the fish pie in the oven, the soup simmering nicely and the sorbets chilling in the fridge, Jenneen poured herself a large glass of wine, and sat down to relax for five minutes.
She needed to think about what she would say if Kate mentioned the night she had seen her. Of course, she would deny that she had been in Monte Carlo at that time, but it was difficult to lie to Kate, or to any of her friends, come to that. How foolish she had been not to have put on Mrs Green’s wig that night. She had been careless, but she had never dreamt that there might be anyone she knew at the casino. Thank God Mrs Green had insisted on the make-up; she was a- tart, and wanted to look like one. Funny, though, how she would never accept money. The Arab had been more than extravagant in the sum he had offered, but Mrs Green had refused. But she hadn’t refused when the Arab had suggested she spend the night on his yacht. And neither had she refused when she had found out what he had in store for her there.
Jenneen shivered, and tried to push the images of that night of debauched concupiscence from her mind. She picked up the newspaper she had brought in with her and tried to concentrate on the article about Bob. A few minutes later the doorbell rang. Wearily she got to her feet. Matthew must have forgotten his key.
“Hello,” she said into the entryphone.
“Hi, it’s Ashley.”
“Ash!” Jenneen cried with delight. “Come on up.”
Ashley came stomping up the stairs, and Jenneen could see that she was angry.
“Bloody men! Bloody, bloody men!”
Jenneen laughed. “What’s Julian done now?” she said, as she closed the door behind her.
“Oh him!” Ashley snorted. “I don’t mean him, for once. No, I’ve just been to the garage to fill up with petrol and oil and air, and all that palaver, and I saw two men watching me from the workshop.”
“Well, surely you weren’t surprised,” said Jenneen. “You must get it all the time. An attractive woman and a Mercedes, any man would look.”
“That’s just it,” said Ashley. “I’m beginning to get fed up with it. Do you know what I heard one of them say? They were looking at me, and sniggering, and then one of them said to his mate, ‘Wonder where her patch is?’ Of all the bloody nerve!”
“What did you say?” said Jenneen.
“Nothing. I almost gave them a two-fingered salute as I drove off, though, but I decided not to stoop to their level. Thanks,” she said as Jenneen handed her a glass of wine. “It really makes me sick. A woman isn’t allowed to have something nice without her being on the game to get it. Narrow-minded, pig ignorant, stupid men like that, they make my blood boil. Jealousy, that’s all it is. Jealousy. I wish I’d run them over.”
Jenneen chuckled.
“Whatever makes some women think they’ve achieved equality, I’ll never know,” said Ashley. “While there are lame-brains like that in the world, we don’t stand a chance.”
“What, of stooping to their level?” Jenneen remarked. “I should hope not.”
“And to make it worse,” Ashley went on, “when I was on the way to the garage I pulled up at some traffic lights, the window down, and this idiot pulled up alongside me, and shouted out, ‘How much, darlin’?’ And do you know what I did? I smiled, and started to laugh. I thought he was asking how much the car was!”
Jenneen burst out laughing. “Oh, I love you, Ashley Mayne. The only woman in the world who is naive enough to think that. Come on, sit down, and calm down.”
Ashley sat on the settee, and picked up the ski-ing brochures. “Now, tell me about the filming. Where did you go? Who did you meet? Didn’t know you were into ski-ing,” she added, as she opened one of the magazines.
“I’m not. Matthew is.”
“Where is he?”
“Down at the wine bar. I threw him out, he was getting in the way.”
“Poor Matthew.”
“What time is your friend Mr Winston arriving?” Jenneen asked.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, he can’t come. His nephew has come to stay for a few days.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. He’s always such fun.”
“I know,” said Ashley. “He was really upset to miss it. But he sends his regards.”
“Well, we are still on for lunch with him at the Brasserie on Saturday, aren’t we?”
“Of course.”
“Good, so we’ll see him then. Have you invited Keith in his place?”
Ashley shook her head and swallowed a mouthful of wine. “He’s in Dorset somewhere, on some kind of a course, so he couldn’t come either.”
“How are things going there?”
“OK. Bit like you and Matthew, I guess. It’s nice to have someone around, but I don’t want any more than that. Not that I can convince Keith of it. Never again, though! Twice bitten. However, I did take it upon myself to invite someone else.”
“Oh?”
“Giles Creddesley.”
“Giles Creddesley! The Giles Creddesley? Whatever made you do that?”
“Basically, because I was stuck.”
“But I thought you two couldn’t stand the sight of one another.”
“We can’t normally. But he’s been so nice lately, he didn’t even ride roughshod over my creative review. And as he so gallantly escorted me to the awards ceremony the other night, where Frazier, Nelmes won an award for their Newslink campaign . . .”
“Ashley!” Jenneen cried. “Oh, congratulations. Did you bring it? What was it? What did Julian say? Jesus Christ, that’s wonderful. Here, have some more wine. We should be having champagne.”
Ashley laughed. “Wine is good enough, thank you. I drank enough champagne to sink the QE2 the night we won. So anyway, as I was saying, I thought, as Giles wasn’t doing anything this evening, I’d ask him along. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not if you don’t.”
“Kate should be pleased. She’s been interviewing him today, for an article about men in the media. That will have flattered his ego no end.”
“Oh God, he’ll be unbearable,” Jenneen groaned.
“Well, it’ll give us all a laugh, if nothing else.”
“You don’t think he’ll bring that revolting pipe, do you?”
“Probably.”
“Ugh! I don’t know what he puts in it, but it smells like something he’s swept up in a farmyard.”
“Don’t tell him that,” said Ashley. “He thinks it turns us all on. Condor man, and all that.”
Jenneen pulled a face. “Well, he’s not to smoke it until after we’ve eaten.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him.”
Ten minutes later Kate came bursting in through the door. “I’ll kill him!” she cried. “I’d like to stuff his head right down his bloody pipe!”
“Come in,” said Jenneen. “My, we are all feeling fond towards the opposite sex tonight. Who’s upset you?”
“Giles bloody Creddesley!” she
said. “That’s who!”
“Oh dear,” said Jenneen, “now that could be a problem. Come through to the lounge, Ashley’s already here.”
“Good. I’ve got a bone to pick with her.”
“Kate,” Jenneen announced to Ashley, as she pushed open the door to the lounge. “Steel yourself,” she added under her breath.
Ashley looked up. “Hi,” she said to Kate. “How are you?”
“Bloody livid, that’s how I am.”
“Why?”
“Piles Cretin, that’s why!”
“Giles. Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know how you could have put me on to someone like that, Ash, really I don’t. He’s an asshole.”
Ashley raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life,” Kate went on. “How do you stand working with him?”
“Only just.”
“He’s abominable! Sitting there with his pink bow-tie covered in green spots, and blowing clouds of manure into the air through that Dickensian effort he puffs away on, he’s an insult to the human race!”
“I quite agree,” said Ashley, “but did you get your interview?”
“Did I get my interview! Darling, just let him wait till it comes out. Then he’ll know the wrath of a woman. I’m going to crucify him.”
“Just exactly what did he say?” Jenneen asked.
“Not much, and what he did say was of no use to me. Now he’ll find out just how much use it is to him. I asked him something, I can’t quite remember what it was, and he said, ‘My dear, I can’t write your article for you.’ Of all the cheek! Then I asked him something about art directors, and he puffed on his pipe, looked me up and down, and said: ‘Oh dear, you really don’t know very much at all, do you?’ At that point, I almost got up and strangled him with his dicky bow.”
“He doesn’t like it to be called that,” Ashley said seriously.
Jenneen burst out laughing. “Were you rude back to him?”
“I told him that if I knew everything then I wouldn’t be there asking him, would I?”
“What did he say?”
“Next question.’ So I asked him which particular bit of the woodwork he had crept out of this morning.”
“And?”
“He said that he didn’t understand the question. So I explained. And he laughed. ‘Oh my dear,’ he said, ‘you really shouldn’t get so upset. This is where so many of you women fall down these days, you know, now that you are all striving for equal rights and status. You’re all far too emotional.’ I very nearly screamed.”
