Not Quite Perfect

by Annie Lyons

  Rachel hugs him, hoping with all her heart that he’s right.

  ‘Oi, you two. Get a room!’ says Emma, handing them glasses of champagne on her way to the lounge.

  Rachel takes her glass and follows her. Will and Martin are arguing with the televisions over a penalty decision and Edward is nestled on the sofa, his arms round Lily and Alfie. Rachel looks at them and wishes you could freeze moments like this when no one is fighting and everyone is happy.

  She picks up a sleepy Alfie and settles down next to Edward, replacing his arm around her shoulder and snuggling into him as she used to when she was a little girl.

  ‘She’s just like you, you know,’ says Edward, gesturing at Lily.

  ‘I know.’

  They sit like this for a while, and suddenly Rachel can feel tears dripping onto her jumper and realises that she is crying. Her father says nothing but pulls her in a little closer.

  ‘He really needs to substitute number seven, don’t you think, Rach?’ he says.

  Chapter 13

  ‘Good morning, Ella,’ says Emma sweeping into the office.

  ‘Someone’s bright and breezy this morning.’

  ‘Oh you know, engaged to be married, very promising career, morning meeting with a dishy author. I love my job!’

  ‘Another meeting?’

  ‘Yes, another meeting. I like to give my authors the very best care.’

  ‘Hmm, sounds like it. Got time for lunch? It would be good to catch up.’

  ‘Sorry, I don’t think I’ll be finished in time.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’

  Emma looks at her friend. There’s something different about her but she’s not sure what. ‘Is everything OK, Ells?’

  ‘Yeah, fine, it’s just –’

  ‘Ah Emma, you are here. Could we have a quick catch-up?’ Joel appears alongside Emma’s desk.

  Emma jumps. ‘Joel, can you stop creeping up on me like that? As for a catch-up, I’ve got a meeting with Richard Bennett in half an hour, so it will have to wait,’ she says firmly.

  ‘Ah, Mr Unmarketable.’ Joel chuckles to himself. ‘That is a shame. We’ll just have to make the key decisions without you.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The decisions? About our ongoing publishing strategy? Didn’t you see Digby’s e-mail? Oh dear. Maybe you weren’t copied in. How awkward. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it. I expect Miranda will fill you in on the details once it’s all decided.’ The corners of his mouth turn up into an almost-smile and he strides off.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ declares Emma angrily, turning to find that Ella has gone and Richard Bennett is standing alongside Lauren the receptionist.

  ‘Oh Richard, hi!’ she says trying to regain her cool.

  Richard smiles and then turns to Lauren. ‘Thank you so much, Lauren. It was lovely to meet you. I have no doubt we’ll see each other again.’ Lauren giggles and gives Emma an envious look before disappearing back to her desk.

  ‘Goodness, you certainly worked a charm offensive there,’ says Emma. ‘She usually just barks at anyone who dares to visit or phone.’

  ‘Oh you know me, Emma, I’m just good at putting people at ease. I can’t help the fact that they all fall hopelessly in love with me on sight. It’s a gift I suppose.’

  Emma laughs. ‘Well the female race is eternally grateful. I just need to grab a few bits and then we can go and find a meeting room. Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Actually, I took the liberty,’ he says holding up a paper bag. ‘I guessed skinny latte and banana and bran muffin?’

  Emma is impressed. ‘That’s very thoughtful and also very perceptive.’

  ‘Like I say, it’s a gift. So,’ says Richard looking around Emma’s excuse of an office. ‘This is where the magic happens eh?’

  ‘You make it sound like Disneyland!’

  ‘Ha, well I mean it in nicest possible way. Ah and this must be the lucky man,’ says Richard plucking a holiday snap of Emma and Martin from the wall.

  ‘Thank you,’ says Emma grabbing it back. ‘Right, ready and able. Follow me.’

  They walk down the corridor to the vast conference room furnished with a long black table and impressive views of London.

  ‘Right, you sit at one end and I’ll sit at the other,’ jokes Richard.

  Emma smiles and takes a seat. Richard peels off his jacket and sits next to her. He puts on his glasses and pulls a notebook from his bag before taking a sip from his coffee. He sits up and looks at her with eyebrows raised. He knows how good-looking he is and is clearly taking every opportunity to show her. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat.

  ‘Right, down to business. How are you getting on?’

  ‘Honestly?’

  ‘It’s the only way.’

  ‘Bloody awful’.

  ‘OK, well, how do you usually deal with this sort of thing?’

  ‘Drink. Heavily.’

  ‘Hmm, well, it worked for Hemingway.’

  ‘Please. I have a rule. Do not mention that man’s name in my presence.’

  ‘Sorry. Aren’t you a fan?’

  ‘Fan? It was that man who made me become a writer, but I cannot bring myself to read him again.’

  ‘Why?’

  Richard looks around him as if the walls have ears and whispers. ‘Because I’ll never be that good.’

  ‘OK, well let’s not worry too much about alcoholic geniuses. Let’s talk about that scene with Stella and Alexander. I presume that’s the one that’s bugging you?’

  ‘Telepathic and beautiful. What a combination,’ says Richard taking a bite of muffin.

  Emma ignores the comment, but there’s a feeling in the pit of her stomach similar to how she felt when forced to have swimming lessons as a child. ‘Just jump in, for goodness sake, Emma!’ her mother had said exasperated. Emma had jumped and then for a while everything had seemed dream-like, before a couple of strong arms had arrived to rescue her.

  ‘OK, so Stella. How do you think she is feeling?’

  Richard screws up his face and shakes his head. ‘You realise you’re asking me the impossible question, don’t you?’

  Emma smiles. ‘Of course. The Pandora’s box for male authors and men everywhere. What women think.’

  ‘Precisely. Which is why you have to help me, Emma. How do you think she’s feeling? I mean, she’s in a bit of a quandary, isn’t she? She’s betrothed to Newton but then Alexander has a bit more about him. Quite an interesting choice, wouldn’t you say?’

  Richard has pulled his chair up close to Emma’s and she can feel his breath against her cheek. She doesn’t want to look him in the face. The whole room is starting to swim. She gives herself a mental slap around the cheek, shifts in her seat and takes a drink of her coffee.

  ‘Right. Stella is in love with Newton, or so she would have us believe. Alexander is his brother and best friend and has fallen in love with Stella. Both men are going to South America to search for the world’s rarest orchid and both are driven by feelings for Stella. Alexander comes to see Stella before they go to tell her how he really feels and how does she react? This is a key moment in the narrative but I think you give too much away. We need to keep up the mystery and keep the reader guessing.’ Emma emphasises her words here and steals a look at Richard. He is smiling at her with a look of interest but Emma sees something else. It’s as if he’s enjoying being entertained, playing the game.

  Emma turns to face him. ‘I think she turns him down.’

  Richard looks surprised, the wind knocked out of his sails. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. She wants to keep up the pretence of loving Newton so pretends to be horrified and sends him away with a flea in his ear.’

  ‘But what if she can’t resist him?’

  ‘Oh please. This isn’t a bodice-ripper. She’s got her own agenda. She doesn’t need Alexander.’

  ‘True, but Newton is a bit safe with his high religious ideals, isn’t he? She might be tempted by something a li
ttle more exciting.’

  Emma fixes her eyes forwards again, staring at the framed book covers on the wall. She knows she should move away but she doesn’t. This man flirts with everyone, scolds her rational self. Martin is the one. He is reliable. He loves you, you love him. Bish bash bosh.

  Richard leans towards her and Emma feels herself turn her head.

  ‘Emma? Is everything all right?’ She and Richard turn to see Miranda standing at the door, eyebrows raised.

  Emma sits upright in her chair and reorders her papers like a newsreader. ‘Absolutely. Richard and I were just discussing the Stella and Alexander storyline,’ she says avoiding eye contact with Miranda.

  ‘I see. Well I just popped by to say hello. Richard, I trust you are well?’ she says, smiling and holding out a hand to him.

  ‘Very well, thank you, Miranda. Emma is putting me through my paces, but I think that’s just what I need,’ he says shaking her hand.

  ‘Indeed. Well, do let me know if you need me. Emma, let’s catch up later, shall we?’ she says with meaning.

  Emma nods sheepishly as she’s been summoned to the headmistress’ office.

  ‘Saved by the boss,’ says Richard when she’s gone.

  Emma looks embarrassed.

  ‘Emma, I’m joking. Lighten up. It was only a bit of harmless role play in an attempt to solve my editorial dilemma. Now are you going to eat that muffin or what?’

  Rachel has never been to Christa’s house before but knows it’s located in an exclusive area of town that she and Steve could never afford. She drives along the tree-lined street straining to see the numbers. Each house is the equivalent width of three of their own Victorian terrace.

  ‘It’s that one!’ shrieks Lily in her ear.

  ‘How do you know?’ asks Rachel with a frown.

  ‘Because I saw Roger’s face at the window, duh,’ retorts her daughter like a pint-sized teenager.

  Rachel pulls in at the next available parking space and gets out of the car, releasing Lily and Alfie who are jumping up and down like excited spaniels. Christa’s house is a mock-Tudor affair with a large sloping drive and enough parking for three cars. A shiny silver BMW sits on the drive. The gate has an intercom system, which immediately makes Rachel feel like an intruder.

  ‘Ooh, can I press the button?’ says Lily, elbowing her mother out of the way. Rachel sighs and lifts her up.

  ‘I wanted to do that,’ cries Alfie, his bottom lip starting to wobble.

  ‘You can do it next time,’ snaps Lily in a tone that she has heard her mother use. Rachel shakes her head feeling very much surplus to requirements.

  ‘Hallo?’ squeaks a small voice. Rachel can hear Christa in the background. ‘Roger, Schatz, bitte nicht!’ she declares. ‘Hello Rachel? I will buzz you in, just push the gate.’

  Rachel does as she is told and moments later Christa is at the door waving them in with a shy-looking Roger hiding behind her legs.

  ‘Willkommen, come in, come in!’ she says. ‘Roger, stop clinging on to my leg. What is the matter with you? You were so excited that Lily, Alfie and Joe were coming.’ She looks at Rachel. ‘He is just grumpy because I told him off but he is always buzzing people in. Last week he let in a homeless man without me knowing. I had no idea until I found him watching television with Roger. He had even made himself a cheese and pickle sandwich.’ Christa chuckles at the memory. ‘But he was a very nice man and turns out he’s an out of work gardener so I am getting him to come and trim my bushes next week,’ she adds without a hint of irony.

  Rachel swallows a giggle. ‘Is Sue here yet?’

  ‘Yes, she is in the kitchen and Joe is upstairs playing in Roger’s Lego room.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ squeaks Alfie, tugging at Christa’s jeans. ‘Did you say Lego room?’

  ‘Ja, Schatz, why don’t you go with Roger and find him.’

  ‘Lego? Bor-ing,’ declares Lily.

  ‘Lily!’ chides Rachel embarrassed. She smiles at Christa. ‘My daughter the diplomat.’

  ‘No, that’s OK.’ Christa kneels down to speak to Lily. ‘I understand, Lily, really I do. You are not wanting to build with the Lego because you can’t make something as good as the boys. I understand.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ cries Lily.

  Christa shrugs her shoulders. ‘Well, I think you should go and show them who is the boss, Lily, and I will award a jam doughnut to whichever Lego model is das beste.’

  ‘Cool!’ shouts Lily scooting off up the stairs after the others.

  ‘Those poor boys,’ sighs Rachel, watching her go.

  ‘Ach ja, but it is good for them to learn about the strength of women from an early age, nicht wahr? And now, can I make you a latte?’

  Rachel follows her into the kitchen, which is a beautifully decorated modern affair with a slate-slab breakfast bar in the centre of the room, gigantic fridge and vast, welcoming, range-style oven. Sue is sitting on a long-legged stool at the breakfast bar happily nursing a coffee.

  ‘Hello, lovely,’ she says, hugging her friend.

  ‘Hey, Sue, how are you doing? Is Joe all better now?’

  ‘He’s fine but Al’s come down with it now and you know what men get like once they contract the dreaded man flu. It was quite a relief to get out of the house just to escape the neediness.’

  ‘Ach but Susan, you must nurse your poor husband,’ says Christa, handing Rachel her coffee.

  ‘You are joking?’ says Sue, raising an eyebrow at Rachel. ‘I don’t know if you know, Christa, but I’m from the North and up there you just get on with it.’

  ‘Not like us sissy southerners,’ grins Rachel.

  Christa laughs. ‘You English are so funny with your north-south issues. No, I mean you must pay attention to your husband so that his eye does not do the looking elsewhere.’

  Sue shrugs. ‘I think Al’s too fond of his testicles to ever be unfaithful.’

  Christa nods. ‘Yes, I had a friend who cut off her husband’s testicles once.’

  Rachel flashes a glance at Sue. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He was sleeping with her sister and so she chopped them off and fed them to him.’

  ‘Oh my God, that’s barbaric!’ cries Sue.

  ‘No, it was OK. She was a nurse and she gave him an anaesthetic first so he had no idea when he woke up and there they were pan-fried on a plate with potato mash and pickled cabbage.’

  ‘Fancy,’ says Rachel.

  Christa looks vague for a moment. ‘Actually I might be mixing that up with a film I saw once.’

  ‘Well, I’ll bare it in mind,’ says Sue with a grin.

  ‘I love your house, Christa,’ says Rachel, taking her coffee over to the large patio doors that open onto the garden. ‘You’ve got so much space. I’m very jealous.’

  ‘Danke viels. We are only renting as we never know how long we will be staying anywhere,’ says Christa standing alongside Rachel and staring out at the day, which is cloudy and grey.

  ‘How is Rudi then? Will we ever get to meet him?’ asks Sue.

  ‘I don’t know, Schatz. He’s away so much with work.’

  ‘Do you still think he’s having an affair?’ asks Rachel.

  ‘Almost certainly,’ nods Christa.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Ach, you know the little things. He bought me big presents. He’s a very generous man but these were big presents – a car, a Rolex – that sort of thing, and he lies about what he’s doing or where he’s going to be. Last week he said he was in New York but I know he was in Moscow.’

  Rachel thinks about Steve’s ostentatious gift and the alcohol on his breath the other night. ‘That’s terrible, Christa.’

  ‘Ja, I know but what can you do? That’s why I say make sure you are as attentive as you can be; don’t give them a reason to get bored of you. I don’t think Rudi ever saw me in the same way after we had Roger. Still, Roger is das beste thing I’ve ever done so who gives a scheisse?’

  Rachel puts an a
rm round Christa, who smiles at her. At that moment Lily appears in the kitchen holding up an impressive scale model of Big Ben. ‘Do I win?’ she asks.

  ‘Wow, Lily, das ist fantastisch!’ says Christa, embracing her. ‘I am guessing you have come to claim your prize?’ she adds handing her a doughnut. ‘Now, I shall just go upstairs to take one each to the boys also.’

  Lily grins and skips after Christa declaring, ‘I like the way you talk! Can you teach me some German?’

  Rachel smiles as they disappear and takes a seat next to Sue, who is eyeing her carefully. ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘What?’ says Rachel.

  ‘The way you grilled Christa about Rudi’s affair.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I was just being a concerned friend,’ says Rachel, draining the rest of her coffee.

  ‘Are you sure you weren’t having irrational thoughts about Steve?’

  Rachel looks at her very perceptive friend. ‘Am I that transparent?’

  ‘A little.’

  ‘Oh Suze, I dunno. First he gives me this eternity ring and then he came home late the other night and I could smell booze on his breath but he said he’d been working. My brain just started working overtime.’

  ‘Rach, I hate to say it, lovey, but I think you might be getting a bit paranoid. I don’t think there’s a man less likely to have an affair than your Steve. He adores you.’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  ‘So talk to him, honey. Don’t jump to conclusions all the time.’

  ‘OK. I promise. And we’re going to Scotland this weekend with the kids.’

  ‘Well then, a perfect time to get away and take stock of everything.’

  ‘Yeah,’ smiles Rachel patting her friend on the knee. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘Can you be really horrible to me for the next few months. It’ll make it a whole lot easier if we do decide to go.’

  ‘No problems, you fat cow,’ grins Sue. ‘Now hand me your mug and I’ll make us another latte. I’m dying to have a go on Christa’s swanky coffee machine.’

  Emma sits back in her chair and sighs. She has been editing the same sentence for about half an hour now. She looks at the three mugs on her desk and decides to break the habit of a lifetime and wash them up on the day of usage. The offices are starting to empty and only the strays and workaholics remain. Emma goes into the communal kitchen, littered with its usual end-of-day detritus and peculiar cheesy smells and flicks the button on the kettle.