One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [116]
‘Seffy, it is both rude and intimidating to employ the Death Stare that you young people are so fond of, so kindly cut it out!’
From friendly banter to vituperation in seconds flat. He turned away. But I wasn’t finished. I would draw him out.
‘Seffy – would you please answer me!’
He came back to me. Under hooded eyes sent me a long flat stare. Then he shrugged. ‘What? I have no idea what you want me to say. You think Christian has a dirty mind. I disagree. I think he has a fine, astute mind.’ It was said lightly, evenly, but it had the effect of rendering my breath even shorter. My tongue flicked out to moisten my lips.
‘Right. Well. How marvellous. Christian’s a smart man. Bully for him. Let’s leave it at that then, shall we? Unless you’ve got anything else to add?’ Silence. ‘Right, well, then I suggest we do.’
Rattled, I swung into the empty bus lane, ignoring dire warnings of cameras recording my every move, and with the eye of London Transport and God’s too, no doubt, upon me, lurched off into the traffic.
Laura was clearly in a Friday night flap when we arrived. She had a shoot dinner for twenty-six that evening, which she loathed. Hugh had gone to collect the girls, but Charlie’s school didn’t have an exeat so he wasn’t allowed out, which she also loathed. Particularly when Charlie knew his sisters were home.
‘Why do we send them away at eight?’ she wailed when she’d greeted us in the hall. Seffy trooped off to the playroom to watch the television. ‘What is the point? To make little men of them? To meet the right people, or something equally crapulous?’
I hadn’t, with Seffy, but knew Hugh had quietly insisted with Charlie. And since he rarely insisted on anything, Laura had given in. But as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, I knew it was the greatest and hardest expression of her love for Hugh. I suspect he knew it too.
‘Charlie’s fine, you said so yourself,’ I soothed, giving her a hug. ‘Having a ball. Rioting in the dorms, in all the teams – loving every minute of it.’
‘Boarding school mothers always say that,’ she said miserably. ‘So no one can accuse them of being a heartless witch. If I said my baby loathes being away from home and cries down the phone to me you’d say, well, what the bloody hell are you up to, wouldn’t you?’
‘I suppose.’
‘And if I said every male in Hugh’s family since the Domesday Book has gone away to school at eight and I didn’t have any choice, I’d go from witch to doormat in moments.’
I sighed.
‘Anyway,’ she sniffed, ‘I might drive across on Sunday, and just spring him. Tell them I need my boy for the day and that’s that.’ She stuffed her hanky up her sleeve. Gave another almighty sniff. ‘You didn’t bring yours then? Speaking of boys.’
‘Who?’
‘Ivan. I sent you an email since you never answer your phone. I thought you might like to ask him down this weekend.’
‘Oh!’
A few weeks ago I’d have been thrilled. Touched she’d taken him seriously, delighted to be in a position to ask. But… would he have come? To meet the family? In my heart I knew the answer. Could see the amused gleam in his smokey grey eyes. ‘What – meet the parents? I thought we said we wouldn’t do that?’
‘Um, no,’ I mumbled to her now, turning to mount the stairs with my luggage. ‘But, thanks. He’s busy this weekend.’
We had said that, months ago when Ivan and I had first met. On that first, sexy, steamy night, after a dinner party at my friend Eliza’s house where I’d sat next to him, then dragged him, literally, back to my place. Over breakfast in bed, we’d established some ground rules. I didn’t want to meet his pretty young mum in the patisserie in Soho, whom I imagined was probably about my age, and he didn’t want to meet my ageing Ps in their smart house in Primrose Hill. This was to be a fun, frivolous relationship with no strings attached, and we’d cemented the deal with another bout of frenzied lovemaking.
We’d also decided no texting during the working day. I didn’t want that silly schoolgirl heart thump when the phone vibrated in my pocket, and he was delighted