by Jules Wake
I rolled my eyes but smiled too. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’
‘It’s not flattery but it is something that we all should have acknowledged a long time ago. So –’ she looked a little coy; typical Bella, nothing held her back for long ‘– can I ask what’s brought this … brutal honesty on?’
‘The irony is, someone else needed me more. God, I sound like bloody Nanny McPhee.’ Bella snorted and we both started to laugh.
‘Nate, by any chance?’
‘No, not him. His daughter. She needed someone.’ And I realised that I was my own worst enemy. I couldn’t resist being needed but with Grace it had been different because, in her, I’d seen so much of myself at the same age. That earnest desire to please everyone. To do the right thing. I wanted to save her from feeling that was how she had to be.
‘Which reminds me, I can only stay until twelve.’ I slipped a finger under the neckline of my dress to touch the silk-covered strap of my new bra.
Bella opened her mouth, about to say something, and then laughed. ‘Good for you.’
‘So I was thinking. Christmas Day. How would you feel about doing pudding: the works, brandy butter, cream and the pud?’
‘No problem.’ She smiled. ‘That’s a great idea. It’s crazy to expect you to do it all.’
‘I was thinking I’d ask Tina to bring the veg and prepare it all. Dad can do the cheeseboard and I thought I’d ask your mum to bring the port. Oh, and the crackers. That way she doesn’t actually have to do anything.’
Bella sniggered. ‘That’ll suit Mum right down to the ground.’
‘And I thought you could tell everyone.’
Bella threw back her head and let out a huge belly laugh. ‘Oh, the worm has turned. Viola, I love you. We really couldn’t have done without you these last few years. I don’t think you appreciate how much you’ve been the glue that’s held us all together.’
‘I’m also thinking about inviting Nate and Grace.’
Bella’s brows lifted and I blushed.
‘Just because they’ll be on their own, just the two of them, and it’s much nicer, especially … well, it would be nicer for Grace to be with other children and I think Nate would probably like adult company.’
‘Right,’ she said in a teasing voice, before adding, ‘What a Good Samaritan you are.’
Chapter 27
I ran lightly up the steps, my hands full of shopping bags, including a paper carrier bag from Mr Christian’s, in my gorgeous new dress, butterflies leaping and dancing in my stomach with joyous abandon and a fair amount of sexual anticipation.
When Nate opened the door, I stopped dead.
It was as if he’d aged overnight, he looked so tired and worn. There was a greyness about him and I instinctively reached out a hand, he looked ill, but he backed away, staying behind the door as if it were a barrier against the plague or something.
Behind him, Grace was on the stairs and when she saw me she beamed and jumped the last two steps and came running over, pulling up short in front of me, ignoring Nate’s warning hand.
‘Viola! Viola! You’ll never guess.’ Her face turned up to me, so alight with happiness she almost glowed. ‘Mummy’s home! Mummy’s home!’ she squealed with a shudder of excitement and with that she whirled and raced away towards the back of the house.
I lifted my eyes to Nate’s face. He looked at me warily.
‘I tried to call you,’ he said in a dull, flat voice.
‘My phone …’ I’d ignored the low battery warning and it had died. I’d meant to charge it at Bella’s but we’d got into things.
Stupidly, all my brain could do was flag up the rather obvious. No sex then. I was worried I might blurt it out for the sheer lack of knowing what else to say.
Nate just looked at me.
What did he want me to do? Give me some clues here. Nothing had prepared me for this eventuality. I searched his face again, my heart a solid lump in my chest. His expression was blank.
‘Ah, Viola.’ The cool blonde of all my imaginings appeared at Nate’s side. Although I’d seen pictures, her effortless elegance and gracious mannerisms were exactly as I’d envisioned. ‘How lovely to meet you. Do come in. I’ve heard so much about you. It seems I owe you quite a debt of gratitude for looking after Grace …’ there was an infinitesimal pause ‘… and Nate.’ Her face held nothing but friendly welcome tinged with a look of enquiry. ‘I’m Elaine, Nate’s wife.’ She held out a slim, elegant ballerina’s hand, her left, in what I knew was a deliberate off-balancing tactic. I shook it, aware of my calloused fingers gracing her smooth, perfect skin.
‘Hi,’ I said, my voice coming out a little wheezy. ‘I was … erm …’ How the hell did I get out of this one?
‘Come on, come in. I’ve got a lovely pot of Guatemalan coffee on the go. I need one, jet lag is such a bitch.’ Her calm assumption that I’d come in sort of hypnotised me and I stepped inside.
‘Let me take your coat. Grace, could you hang … Violet’s coat up. Oh, what a lovely dress.’ There was a loaded pause and I felt myself blush furiously. ‘Are you going somewhere nice?’
Did I imagine the unspoken, or were you planning to shag my husband?
I smoothed down the heavy crepe fabric. ‘It’s for work. I’m going to work.’
‘Oh.’ She led the way down to the kitchen with Grace skipping ahead and Nate lagging behind. I didn’t dare turn my head and look at him. I’d left the pile of bags beside the front door.
‘A nice dress for work,’ she said, inviting me to take a seat at the breakfast bar, her brow wrinkling in what could only be described as a light frown; it was really quite peculiar, as if she was faced with a riddle of great complexity that she wasn’t terribly interested in solving but was asking out of politeness. ‘I thought you worked with children.’ She gave the dress which, come on, surely she couldn’t find fault with, another cool glance.
I sat down in my usual seat, my heart bumping uncomfortably. ‘I play in the orchestra. For the London Metropolitan Opera Company.’
Her mouth dropped open. That did surprise her and I felt I’d scored a small rather marginal point when the game was very much hers. I had no idea what was going on and I didn’t dare look at Nate for any kind of reassurance. Elaine held all the cards and I was clueless as to what the game was. What had Nate told her about me?
‘Guess what she plays?’ asked Grace, tugging at her mother’s sleeve. ‘Guess, Mummy. Guess.’
‘Grace, stop that.’ She brushed Grace’s fingers off.
‘But it’s really funny.’ Grace grinned at me, ignoring the snap in her mother’s voice. ‘She plays the viola and … she’s called … Viola.’ She clapped her hands.
‘Grace, really calm down. I don’t know what’s got into you. Sit down and be quiet.’
Elaine shot Nate an angry accusing look across the kitchen before turning to me. ‘That must be interesting. So, I’m intrigued. How on earth did you meet my husband –’ there was no mistaking the emphasis ‘– and end up looking after our daughter?’ Cue tinkling laughter and coy Hollywood tilt to the head, although anyone with half a brain would know that now we were getting to the nitty-gritty. Gloves off.
‘Through your mother, actually,’ I said, in a jolly, isn’t-this-great-fun tone because hello, lady, I had done nothing wrong. ‘She approached the Opera House, wanting to know if any of our outreach programmes might include her granddaughter’s school. As I live locally, I was asked to help Grove Leys School with a music project.’ I beamed at her. ‘When I met Mrs Roberts, the headteacher, she introduced me to Mr Williams, in his role as governor.
‘Since then I’ve been working on the nativity with the school. One evening Grace wasn’t picked up from school, I happened to be in the school office and I agreed to take her home, on the proviso that Mr Williams got home before six, so that I could go to work.
‘As he was desperate and I am free between three and six most days, I agreed to help out for two weeks.�
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I could see her digesting all this and I could feel Nate’s eyes on me. I felt as if I were walking blind – how much had he told her? Would she know the spare room had been in use? I knew the cleaner came in twice a week. Perhaps she’d obliterated all sign of me in the master bedroom. Where was Elaine sleeping? Or, rather, where was Nate sleeping? Back in the master bedroom, in the marital bed?
My eyes strayed to the dining area. The table had been moved back and the Christmas tree had been pushed further into the corner.
‘That’s very generous of you.’ Her eyes narrowed and she let the first arrow fly. ‘My husband has always been … lucky that way.’
Ouch.
‘I didn’t do it for your husband,’ I said, turning to Grace, whose eyes were a little wary and she was watching the adults with that deer-about-to-flee look about her. ‘I did it for Grace. We’ve become quite good friends.’
‘Viola’s going to teach me to play the viola,’ said Grace, giving a little twirl.
‘Violin first.’ I winked.
‘Yes, because the viola’s a lot bigger. You’d think it would be smaller, wouldn’t you?’
I bit back a smile at her repetition of my words and took a sip of the coffee and almost gasped. Eek! It was strong. That would wake the dead. Note to self, avoid Guatemalan coffee in future.
‘Grace, sit down nicely. Where’s your colouring book? I don’t know why you’re being so giddy and silly. You’re going to knock something over and break it. And I think the piano would be more suitable if you’re going to learn an instrument … And what is my hurricane lamp doing down here!’ Her mouth pinched tight and she glared at the offending ornament. ‘I’m going to have strong words with the cleaner.’ She turned to Nate. ‘I think she’s been slacking a bit. You need to stay on top of her.’
A muscle moved in Nate’s cheek and I sneaked a look at him, trying to hide my sudden amusement, pushing back the red-hot memory of the weight of him on top of me on the sofa.
Elaine huffed and turned away, snatching up the hurricane lamp. Nate and I exchanged a look, his amused, apologetic and touched with longing. He remembered too.
‘This needs to go back in the lounge. Nate.’ She held it towards him.
As soon as he’d gone, she turned to me, all smiles, and took a step forward with the intent of a spider homing in on the fly trapped at the centre of its web.
‘I am so grateful to you for looking after Grace. It was so irresponsible of the nanny to take off like that, although why Nate hasn’t sorted a new one out yet …’ She shook her head and gave me a conspiratorial roll of her eyes. ‘He really shouldn’t have imposed on you but –’ she sighed and looked a little dreamy-eyed, which was oh, so fake ‘– he is rather irresistible. I made a terrible mistake –’ she lowered her voice, shooting a glance at Grace, who was now quietly colouring in ‘– I let us drift apart. Thinking my job in New York was enough. It wasn’t.’
Did she think her daughter was deaf or stupid?
‘I’m back for good.’ Although her voice was soft and her smile bright, there was no mistaking the implicit warning. ‘And I’m so looking forward to a traditional family Christmas. There’s nothing quite like it. Do you have family?’
I laughed. ‘I have family. A big one.’
‘I always think that must be nice.’ She winked at me, all matey and chummy again, but I knew fake when I saw it. ‘Nate and I need to get to work to expand ours, I think. A little brother or sister for Gracie.’
Grace’s head whipped round and Elaine let out an oops giggle.
‘Don’t get too excited, darling. These things take time.’
‘Sarah at school got two new brothers at once. Her mum had twins.’
Elaine shuddered and smoothed the jersey fabric of her expensive-looking dress across her stomach. ‘I can’t think of anything worse.’
I took another sip of the blood-curdling coffee and then put it down; my stomach was protesting. I looked at my watch. ‘Well, I really ought to be going. I’ve got a rehearsal this afternoon and then work.’
‘Mummy simply loves the opera. Maybe you can get me some tickets for her.’ Elaine was already at my elbow, ready to show me out. ‘I’m quite cross with her and Daddy. They’re with friends on Christmas Day. It’s just going to be the three of us and I can’t get a booking for lunch anywhere for love nor money. It’ll be such a fag if I have to go out and buy a turkey and everything.’
As I was ushered up the stairs – oh, yes, Elaine was keen to see me go – I was tempted to tell her that Nate had an online shopping account with Sainsbury’s, but I decided against it.
Nate met us in the hall.
I looked at the bags by the door and then back at him, while Elaine got my coat from the cupboard muttering about the dreadful state of it.
‘Violet is just leaving,’ she said, laying a hand on his arm.
‘It’s Viola,’ said Nate a little tersely.
‘Oh, silly me, of course it is. Well, it was lovely to meet you. Grace prattled on and on about you.’ She put a graceful hand to her throat. ‘I have to admit to feeling quite jealous, but –’ she moved her hand to touch my shoulder ‘– now I’ve met you, I can see I had nothing to worry about. You’re been so kind to her. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve been looking after my little girl for me. She’s such a poppet.’
Her smile dimmed. ‘I haven’t always made the best decisions but I hope that …’ she swallowed ‘… I hope that you’ll give us some time and space to mend a few fences. I’ve got a lot of …’ she shot Nate an embarrassed grimace, nibbling at her lip ‘… I’ve got a lot of work to do. To make up to Nate and Grace.’ She flashed me a quick, bright smile. ‘Must try harder.’ Despite her glib words, I saw the shame in her body language, the tentative hand reaching out towards Nate, and I felt terribly sorry for her.
Nate’s jaw tensed as he came to the door. ‘Elaine, would you mind?’ he ground out, his voice like gravel. ‘I’d like a private word with Viola before she leaves.’
‘Grace, darling, come say goodbye to Viola,’ said Elaine, blatantly putting a spoke in the wheel. She pushed her daughter in front of her and Nate and I didn’t miss the symbolism. The perfect family unit. It was a challenge to me – did I really want to split that up?
Nate’s eyes narrowed and I was surprised by the sudden fury in them. But it was no good. This had to be about Grace. My heart clenched. A united front. They were a pair. A pair who were trying to do the right thing for their daughter.
‘I’d better go,’ I said with a brittle smile at Elaine, refusing to meet Nate’s eyes. ‘I’m sure Grace is thrilled to have you home for Christmas.’
I looked down at the Disney and H&M bags at the door, next to the deli bag.
I picked up the bag of food and opened the front door.
‘Bye,’ I said and walked down the steps.
‘Wait, Vi—’
‘—Bye, Viole … Viola,’ said Elaine, loudly speaking over Nate, and I could see her arm blocking his path, her other arm looped around Grace’s shoulders. ‘Lovely to meet you. And thank you again for everything.’
I turned and looked at the three of them standing in the doorway together.
It was a scene of family solidarity and I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach.
Chapter 28
When the door clicked shut, with a finality that hit me hard, I lifted my head and walked, one foot in front of the other, my vision blurry. The show must go on. Cue Freddie Mercury lyrics in my head. They kept me going to the end of the street, keeping the tears at bay.
The show must go on. The golden rule of performing. Even more so in the orchestra. Death and heart attack were the only good reasons for not turning up to work. I’d never had a day off sick or otherwise and I wasn’t about to start now, even though I felt like curling up in a ball and howling.
On the corner of the street, I was about to dump the deli bag into someone’s wheelie bin when I remembered I
’d passed some poor rough sleeper on the way here. With quick, angry strides I walked back to the high street and the doorway where I’d seen him. He wasn’t there but his tatty sleeping bag and pile of dirty blankets suggested he hadn’t gone too far. I put the bag of food on the blankets and hoped the bedraggled man I’d seen earlier would enjoy it, although a hot cup of coffee would probably be more welcome than olives, sun-dried tomatoes and prosciutto. Take that, Nate Williams. Except, of course, I had to acknowledge he hadn’t looked very happy. And neither had Elaine; she’d looked sad and embarrassed. But, the absolute kicker, Grace had been glowing.
Her mum was home – and home for Christmas. That had to be a good thing, didn’t it? It had to be about Grace. Despite telling myself that, I felt horribly sorry for myself.
Abandoning my original plan to walk home, ignoring the tight griping pains in my chest, my stomach, my leg muscles, in fact just about everywhere, I turned in the opposite direction, considering for a brief moment the options of popping in to see Mum and Dad or going back to Bella’s. I couldn’t face either but I didn’t want to be on my own.
I welcomed the noise and buzz of Portobello Market, the shouts of fruit-sellers vying with each other to offer the best deals, the irate beeps of a dustcart reversing and a police siren barely a street away. Despite the cold, the streets were crammed with bobble-hatted Christmas shoppers. The fruit and veg stalls sported additional wares, with bunches of mistletoe and holly, netted fir trees and clove-covered oranges hanging from the metal frames. As I wandered along, aimless and detached, my senses were heightened. I could smell mulled wine and spices. Ginger here and cinnamon there. My eyes were drawn to the glitz and shine of dozens of stalls selling cheap wrapping paper bundled up, five for a fiver, and piled high with flimsy Christmas cards, three boxes for the price of two. Some stall-holders had paid lip service to the festivities with a few begrudging straggly strands of tinsel while others had wholeheartedly embraced the season to be jolly with everything but the kitchen sink, displaying loops and swags of tinsel, outsize baubles, fairy lights and the obligatory deer antlers on dummies heads, their own heads and their dogs’ heads.
