The plan was to spend the first evening enjoying an informal dinner together at the apartment. It would probably be the last evening they’d all spend in, let alone together – New York had too many restaurants, bars, clubs and theatres to waste staying in. But for now, the flat was enough of a novelty for everyone to want to remain together. And Victoria, Charles and Annie were too tired to go out.
They sat down on the sofas, while Davina busied herself making them all drinks and passing round the canapés, and George busied himself showing off about their exploits in New York.
‘We’ve dined with the Houselmans twice,’ he started. ‘Spectacular place they’ve got, although I prefer our views, and we met Hollywood star Ginnie Salamon at the theatre last week.’
Victoria gasped. ‘Isn’t she dead?’
‘Almost,’ replied Katherine.
‘What’s she like?’
‘Fat!’
‘She’s tiny!’
‘The woman has a stomach you could sleep on.’ Katherine took a gulp of her bourbon and ice. ‘And her bottom! If she ever does a period piece, she won’t need a bustle.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ muttered Charles quietly into his gin.
‘Wasn’t she beautiful though?’ asked Victoria.
Katherine shook her head. Bones jarred from the sudden movement. ‘Too much make-up,’ she grinned and sighed. ‘It was wonderful to meet her. Oh and then there was Amanda Mortimer. I never realised how tacky that woman was – I swear, you could smell the Charlie on her.’
‘Oh my God, how disgusting!’
‘I didn’t know it had a smell,’ said Victoria, astonished.
Katherine looked at her sister as though she was mad.
‘It’s a perfume, darling, of course it’s got a smell.’
‘Oh the perfume! Oh I see. Oh, how common.’
There was a pause in the conversation.
‘Can we do Bergdorf-Goodman’s tomorrow, Kate?’ asked Victoria.
Katherine looked over at Davina.
‘We’ve rather done it to death, haven’t we, darling?’
I see, thought Annie. And I thought we were all on a budget. She hadn’t really expected anything less, but the knowledge that her family had been busy spending money they couldn’t afford concerned her greatly.
Davina looked at Katherine innocently.
‘I’d be delighted to go again,’ she said to both sisters, her expression a study in artlessness.
‘Annie will go with you,’ said Katherine.
Annie and Victoria glanced at each other, nonplussed.
‘Actually I was thinking of going to the Guggenheim,’ said Annie quietly.
‘Oh,’ said Victoria. ‘Do they do couture there?’
Annie maintained eye contact for as long as possible to make sure Victoria wasn’t joking.
Victoria maintained it back.
Nope. She wasn’t joking.
‘It’s a museum of modern art,’ Annie said finally.
There was silence.
Annie looked hesitantly round at her family. Five pairs of eyes stared unblinking at her. She felt as if she’d just announced that for her next trick she would snort all the canapés up her nose while standing on one leg whistling ‘Abide with Me’ and wearing a duck costume. Mind you, at times like these, she felt tempted to do that just to ease the tension.
‘They’ve got an exquisite gift shop,’ she added, rather weakly.
Her family let out their breath as one.
She sat down, suddenly overcome by jetlag.
‘You’re more than welcome to go together – without me,’ Davina was saying, her mouth and eyes round with innocence.
Doesn’t she get a headache pulling that face all day, thought Annie.
George coughed suddenly and ran his hand through his thick hair, trying not to smile at the thought of everyone going shopping except him and Davina.
‘I’m sure you’d love to go with your sister,’ finished Davina.
Katherine ignored Davina completely and said,
‘Oh what the hell! We’ll all go again – I don’t suppose it will harm us, will it, Davvy?’
Victoria was delighted and Annie was impressed by Davina’s act of being thrilled by the decision.
Katherine was genuinely glad to have her sisters there with her. In two months she had progressed from feeling the town was full of eligible men to knowing that there were only two who were remotely acceptable, one of whom was more in love with his car than any woman, the other who had a back hairier than his head. Must she always compromise?
But now that her sisters were here, she could enjoy the status of Weary Expert through their eyes. Nothing made being a know-all as much fun as having witnesses.
The chef suddenly appeared to announce that dinner would be ready in exactly forty minutes.
Conversation was abruptly called to a halt.
‘Time to dress for dinner,’ announced George.
* * * * *
Annie was surprised to find that her memory of the apartment had been unnecessarily harsh. Her suite really was beautiful and she realised that if she wasn’t happy to be here, at least she wasn’t miserable. Deliciously thick cream carpet sank beneath her bare feet and the proportions of her room were so pleasing as to make her feel that despite her unhappiness, all was right with the world. She’d never before appreciated the power of proportions. She unpacked her clothes, had a quick, invigorating shower and then lay on the bed, wearing only a towelling robe.
So many people out there, she thought, barely able to hear the taxis hooting miles below. Every now and then a siren halted midway through its call. She sighed. Poor poor Marlon. Poor, poor Joy. But more importantly, poor me.
She must get access to a computer so that she could email them straight away.
She must not get maudlin. This was her new life.
Edward Goddard is here in this city. He thinks he’s in love with me. I am lovable. I’m safe and warm and clean in an ugly world. I have nice hair.
Then she stretched out on her bed and slowly closed her eyes. And saw Jake, breathless and urgent, in a dark London alleyway.
She opened her eyes quickly and stared at the ceiling.
* * * * *
Charles was ready first. He wandered into the drawing room and stood looking out at the view. He didn’t hear Annie come in behind him.
‘Pretzel?’ she asked, for want of anything else to say, picking up a bowl of snacks and offering him some.
‘Hmm? Oh no thanks,’ he said, stroking his paunch lovingly. ‘Don’t want to spoil my appetite.’
‘No of course not,’ said Annie, putting the pretzels on the coffee table.
They stood staring down at the view together in silence.
Davina was next to join them. She went straight to the coffee table.
‘Pretzel?’ she asked immediately, in a tone far more conducive to spoiling an appetite than Annie’s. She held them enticingly close to her bronzed chest.
‘Oh why not?’ said Charles, taking a handful. ‘Whet my appetite.’
Annie refused the offer, shaking her head mildly.
‘Have you been enjoying yourself?’ she asked Davina.
‘Oh, I’ve been having a wonderful time,’ Davina replied, holding the pretzels so close to her chest they gave her an even more impressive cleavage. ‘Of course,’ she rushed, ‘I’ve also been liaising with the office constantly, talking to the consultants back in Britain, keeping your father up to date.’ She smiled sweetly at Annie. ‘Must earn my keep.’
Annie smiled sweetly back and couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Just then George appeared. He stared obediently at Davina’s bosom.
‘Ah pretzels!’ he bellowed.
Davina walked forward to him with them still in her hand.
‘Never resist a pretzel!’ he announced to the others, as he took a handful. Annie wasn’t sure if this was a statement or a command.
Katherine was close behin
d him and she went straight to the drinks cabinet where she poured herself a Scotch.
And then Victoria came in behind them. She was rather flushed with all the excitement of being in New York and had paid extra attention to her make-up and hair tonight, in a desperate attempt to take the attention away from her body.
‘Right!’ said George, on seeing his daughter appear. ‘Dinner time!’
They all trooped into the cosy fourteen feet by fourteen feet dining room. Placecards had been left on the empty plates.
Once everyone had found their places, they stood for a brief moment waiting for George to sit down.
‘You look – you look – lovely,’ said Charles across the table to his wife. The sentence had started off as a simple, open, honest expression of sentiment. So why had it grown embarrassing as he’d said it? His embarrassment made him self-conscious and his self-consciousness made him ashamed.
Victoria looked up at him stunned.
Is this what her family did to Charles? Terrified him into paying her empty compliments that made him blush?
‘What do you mean look lovely, Charles? Are you saying it’s all an act?’
‘I-I-I—’ Charles was baffled.
Katherine laughed. Oh, she’d missed her family.
‘No, I—’
‘Oh God, Vicks,’ scoffed Katherine. ‘Don’t go paranoid on us, just because you’ve put on weight.’
Charles felt his wife’s humiliation.
‘So what if she has?’ he asked heroically, ready to confess the depth of his feelings for his wife as never before. But a sickening gasp swept round the table. It would have taken a stupider man, even than Charles, not to realise that he’d just made a boo-boo. Something had to be done. And fast.
‘What … what I mean to say is,’ he said, his sweat glands making their presence known to him, ‘is … is who wants to be a cold, hard, skinny bitch?’
Victoria stared at him, too surprised to reply that that was her ideal of womanhood.
Charles turned suddenly to Katherine.
‘No offence, Katherine,’ he said quickly.
Katherine looked surprised.
‘None taken, Charles.’
Davina started to blow her nose loudly.
‘I mean—’ continued Charles, his sweat glands now making their presence known to everyone.
‘It’s all right, Charles,’ said Katherine, starting to take offence. ‘You know what they say … Sticks and stones may break my bones, but at least I’m not fat.’
Davina started coughing into her handkerchief, her eyes watering.
Charles was lost. He had absolutely no idea what to say. How come he always started off saying the right thing but ended up blubbering offensive crap? Why was it such a long and tortuous journey from his brain to his mouth? He looked desperately at his wife. She couldn’t meet his eye.
Annie didn’t know who to try and save first. She looked over at her father to see how he was reacting. He was checking his reflection in the silver knife.
‘Well,’ hissed Victoria finally to her husband. ‘I may be fat but at least I don’t have a face like a palsied chicken.’
Davina dropped her fork and dove under the table to retrieve it.
And with that, Victoria rushed out, leaving them all to a delightful, informal family dinner.
* * * * *
‘It’s not that I don’t love him,’ said Victoria through her tears. ‘I just … I just want to kill him.’
‘Yes,’ said Annie. ‘Sometimes it must get like that.’
‘No, not sometimes,’ said Victoria in a low voice. ‘All the time.’
‘Ah.’
‘Hatred is so exhausting, Annie. Resentment and hatred. Disillusionment, resentment and hatred. No wonder I’m tired all the time. He’s just so … so …’
‘… Enigmatic? Most men are.’
‘Enigmatic?’ scoffed Victoria. ‘The only thing enigmatic about Charles is his driving. He thinks indicators are for girls. No. He’s just insensitive to my—’
‘Demands?’
‘Needs.’
‘Oh.’
Annie looked out at the night rain. If only Victoria could learn to become responsible for her own happiness, instead of blaming poor Charles all the time. It could change everything. Annie was starting to see that if she had taken responsibility for Jake all those years ago, instead of handing it over to Susannah on a plate …
Maybe she could get Victoria to see that taking responsibility for her own life was a viable option. It would take sensitive handling, but it could be done.
‘What would make you happy?’ she asked eventually.
Victoria considered the question seriously.
‘A husband who did everything for me.’
Maybe not.
Annie wanted desperately to go to sleep, but she knew that Victoria needed cheering up. Charles had gone out after dinner and wasn’t back yet.
‘How about tomorrow we do a bit of shopping and treat ourselves to coffee in Greenwich Village?’ suggested Annie.
Victoria grimaced. ‘Why would I want to go to Greenwich Village?’ she asked.
‘All right, coffee at The Waldorf then.’
Victoria sniffed. ‘You go,’ she said. ‘I want to stay in tomorrow. Go to your precious Gluggenstein shop.’
* * * * *
Later that night, Annie found the apartment office: she was tired and it was dark but she managed to turn the computer on and log-on to the internet.
She wrote a quick note to Joy and then one to Marlon, asking how they both were, giving her address and, should they ever need it, her phone number. She clicked on send, turned off the computer and left the room.
20
ANNIE STOOD ON the sidewalk, her teeth chattering with the cold, facing a winter splendour that was Central Park. She had been here a week now and had been stunned to discover that in the few years since she’d last visited, she had changed enough to like this city.
She’d walked to the heaving, bustling theatre district, where people spoke so loudly in the street that she kept thinking they were about to start hitting each other, then all the way back to the Upper East Side with its shiny brass fire hydrants and glossy dog walkers clutching their even glossier dogs.
For the first few days, she had felt horribly self-conscious, as if a neon sign shone from her forehead broadcasting the fact that she was a tourist. She felt convinced that everyone else shared a common understanding of the way of the world. They understood how the subway worked, how the grid system worked, how the language worked, how the money worked. And she was on the outside looking in.
But that feeling didn’t last long. Gradually things became clearer. And in fact they became even clearer than they had been at home. Nothing here was left to chance or was left unsaid. Every public building stated boldly how many people it could hold, every street was one way and everyone spoke from the heart without embarrassment or shame. She began to wonder how she’d survived in London for so long, in dangerously overcrowded public buildings, filled with people who were so repressed they were all waiting to go home and grow their ulcers in peace and quiet.
The Christmas decorations were the same as at home and the Bing Crosby seasonal songs bursting forth from the shops into the streets reminded her of London. But everything else was larger, louder and faster here. It was as if someone had turned up the volume and fast-forwarded reality. She felt invigorated.
Tomorrow she was having the first catch-up meeting with Edward and her father, so she could update Susannah back home on how everything was going. It would be the first time she’d seen Edward since he’d visited her at home. He’d left a message on her answerphone explaining his visit to New York – ‘to check everything was going to plan in the Big Apple’ and his voice had been full of affection.
She was somehow feeling more optimistic about the outcome of her father’s company. She didn’t know why – it was as if the size and focus of New York had simply sharpen
ed her positive emotions. Life seemed to be happening to her again.
She pulled her coat and scarf tight around her body and strode to Central Park where she watched the roller-bladers, cyclists, scooters, joggers and walkers speed over and under the manmade bridges, personal stereos and mobile phone attachments glued to their ears. No wonder Americans find England quaint, she thought. She felt positively anachronistic sitting there with her unhampered feet and ears. She might as well have worn a corset.
Just then her new mobile phone went off and because she was a tourist, she didn’t feel any sense of embarrassment whatsoever. That was, until she took off her mittens and started to use the thing.
‘Annie, you’ll never guess!’
‘Hello?’
‘The second wedding, you’ll never guess who it is!’
‘Who is this?’
‘Annie? Is that you?’
‘Yes, who is this?’
‘It’s VICTORIA, for Christ’s sake. Annie, it’s not Jake and Sophie – it’s David and Sophie! Can you believe it?’
‘What’s David and Sophie?’ asked Annie, too cautious to believe her ears.
‘The second wedding – Sophie’s engaged to that short, divorced management consultant! Can you believe it?’
No, she couldn’t.
‘I said, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? Jesus, you know how to spoil good gossip, don’t you?’
‘No, I can’t,’ laughed Annie. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Annie screamed into the phone with delight. Well, she didn’t want to spoil Victoria’s good gossip.
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!’ she yelled, laughing.
‘I know!’ Victoria started giggling.
‘He’s so short!’ squealed Annie.
Victoria had instant hysterics.
Annie had forgotten how easy it was to make Vicky laugh.
‘He’s a management consultant! She’ll never be able to move in polite society again.’
Vicky choked.
‘He’s not Jake!’
They whooped with laughter.
‘He’s the Other One!’
Persuading Annie Page 21
