Chapter 28
The following evening they took a taxi to Mark’s friend Olivia’s house in Belsize Park.
Claire took his hand in the back of the cab, sighing happily as his warm fingers curled around hers.
It had been such a lovely day. She had worried there might be some awkwardness after last night, but Mark was his usual friendly, relaxed self, and she felt perfectly at ease again.
It had been a beautiful summer’s day, the sun hot in a cloudless blue sky, a gentle breeze taking the edge off the temperature so that the heat wasn’t oppressive.
They had had a blissfully lazy day in the garden, chatting, reading the papers and stroking Millie, punctuated by coffee and tea, cold white wine, croissants, salmon quiche and strawberries.
Claire felt almost drowsy with pleasure, as pampered and content as Millie.
‘So, this is our fifth date,’ she said, as they walked up the path to his friend’s house.
He stopped and turned to her. ‘Is it? I wasn’t sure – I mean I didn’t know if you counted this weekend as one or—’
‘It’s definitely our fifth date,’ she said. ‘And, by the way, I’m not seeing the Artist any more.’
‘You’re not?’
‘No. I broke it off with him before I came over here,’ she said, with a calm smile.
He smiled back, his eyes glittering with intent. Then he took her hand and continued walking.
A very pretty girl with long, shiny dark hair answered the door. ‘Mark!’ she squealed, pulling him into a hug.
‘Olivia, this is Claire,’ Mark said, once he was released. ‘Claire, Olivia.’
‘Hi, Claire, it’s lovely to meet you,’ Olivia said, as they shook hands.
‘You too.’
‘Well, come in, come in.’ Olivia ushered them into the hallway. ‘Let me take your coats. Gosh, I love your dress.’
‘Thank you,’ Claire said, as she handed over her jacket.
‘We’re all in here.’ She led them into a small dining room, where people were already seated around a large table. Banks of candles on every surface gave the room and everyone in it a soft glow.
There was a chorus of ‘Mark!’ as they entered, and he waved at them all in greeting.
‘Everyone, this is Claire,’ Olivia said, ‘Mark’s friend.’
Claire nodded shyly as they all said hello.
‘Sit down, you two,’ Olivia said, waving them to a couple of chairs beside each other. ‘Claire, this is Diane, Patrick, Emma and Jamie.’
‘Emma works with me,’ Mark whispered to Claire, as she sat down beside Jamie. She wondered why he was whispering and he raised his eyebrows meaningfully – at which she realised this was the Emma she knew as @Locksie on Twitter and with whom she had chatted often.
‘Oh!’ she breathed. She wouldn’t have known her from her Twitter avatar, but now that she knew it was her, she recognised the face. It felt strange not to be able to acknowledge that they knew each other – sort of.
‘Andy’s still to come,’ Olivia was saying, ‘but we’re getting sloshed while we’re waiting. Red or white?’
They both asked for red, and when she had filled their glasses, she sat down opposite Claire.
‘I haven’t seen Andy in ages,’ Mark said to Olivia.
‘None of us has,’ she said.
‘Is he bringing anyone?’
‘I’m not sure. He was a bit vague. He broke up with Sam a couple of months ago, and I don’t think he’s seeing anyone else.’
‘So, you’re from Dublin, Claire?’ Emma asked her.
‘Yes. I’m just over for the weekend.’
‘You’re staying with Mark?’ she asked, smiling knowingly at him.
‘Um… yes.’
‘Well, you’re a dark horse, Mark,’ Jamie said. ‘You never told us you were having an international fling. All those business trips are starting to make sense now.’
‘They were business trips,’ Mark said. ‘Claire and I have only just started seeing each other. And it’s not a fling, by the way.’
‘Ooh!’ Jamie and Patrick chorused childishly.
Claire suddenly felt self-conscious, as if she was on trial with his friends and they were all sizing her up. She got the feeling these people were very important to him, and she wanted them to like her.
‘Don’t mind them,’ Mark said to her. ‘They’re such children.’
‘Sorry,’ Emma said to Claire. ‘We’re being silly – too much wine and no food. Where’s bloody Andy?’ she shouted to the table at large.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be him now,’ Olivia said, getting up and leaving the room.
‘Thank God for that,’ Patrick said. ‘At last we can eat.’
‘What are we having anyway?’ Diane asked. ‘Does anyone know?’
‘Knowing Olivia, it’ll probably be some vile invention of hers.’
They were all chatting and giggling about Olivia’s cooking when she came striding back into the room. Claire was surprised that she was rather stoney-faced – and was she imagining it or had she glanced warily at Mark?
‘Andy’s here,’ she said tightly, ‘and he’s brought someone.’ She was followed into the room by a tall, dark-haired man and a ravishingly pretty girl with thick waves of strawberry blonde hair tumbling down her back.
Everyone fell silent, and all eyes flew to Mark.
‘Hi, you guys,’ the blonde said, smiling.
Either she was oblivious to the atmosphere in the room or she was choosing to ignore it.
Patrick and Diane were obviously stunned, Jamie looked cross, and Emma appeared downright hostile as they greeted her in turn.
They all kept darting furtive glances at Mark, as if they were expecting him to explode.
‘Sophie.’ Mark finally nodded in acknowledgement.
‘And who’s this?’ Sophie asked, her eyes settling on Claire.
‘This is Claire,’ Mark introduced her. ‘Claire – Sophie and Andy.’
Sophie extended a heavily braceleted hand.
‘Nice to meet you, Claire.’ She smiled, blatantly sizing her up.
Then her eyes slid questioningly to Mark.
‘Well, you haven’t wasted any time,’ she said, as she took the seat on Mark’s other side, her dazzling smile never slipping.
‘I go into rehab for five minutes and find I’ve been replaced. ’
Her mischievous smile belied the bitterness of her words, but they hit Claire like a slap.
She didn’t know where to look. Was this why everyone had been acting so shiftily when Sophie arrived – because Mark was supposed to be her boyfriend and instead he’d turned up with her?
Because he’d cheated on Sophie while she was in rehab?
Irritation crossed Mark’s features. ‘Sophie, you know we’d—’
‘So, what’s for supper, Ol?’ Sophie interrupted, pouring herself a huge glass of wine. ‘I’m starving!’
‘Should you be doing that?’ Olivia asked, frowning, as Sophie raised the glass to her lips.
‘Oh, Christ, you’re right!’ Sophie stopped herself as she was about to take a sip. She lowered the glass. ‘God, I’m such a dunce! I’ll never graduate from rehab like this. Here, you have it,’ she said, sliding the glass across to Andy.
Olivia smiled reluctantly. ‘I’ll go and get the first course.’
‘What do you think it’s going to be?’ Sophie hissed, once Olivia was out of the room. ‘Not one of her “creations”, I hope.’
‘So how was rehab?’ Jamie asked cheerfully.
‘Boring! Though I did have a little fling with a crackhead from Scotland – that was fun.’
‘You’re not supposed to get off with people in rehab,’ Jamie said. ‘Isn’t that against the rules?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘You have to do something to pass the time. So, Claire, where are you from?’
‘Dublin.’
‘Ah, lovely! I was in Dublin once. At least I think it was Dublin,’ she frowned, ‘but I was off my head, so who knows? I had a pint of Guinness, though, so it probably was Dublin.’
‘You can get Guinness anywhere,’ Patrick pointed out.
‘True, but you wouldn’t get me drinking it. I must have been doing the tourist thing.’
‘Are you and Andy…?’ Mark trailed off.
‘What? Banging each other?’ She glanced at Andy. ‘God, no! I love Andy to bits, but we don’t fancy each other at all, do we, babe?’ she said to Andy, who shook his head.
‘Nope, not a bit,’ he said.
‘Andy was very sweet,’ Sophie said, ‘driving down to pick me up when I was sprung from rehab, when a certain other person seems to have forgotten my existence.’ Her eyes returned pointedly to Mark. ‘At least some people still love me.’
‘You know we all love you,’ Mark said blandly.
Ouch, Claire thought. That had to sting. It was such a brutally noncommittal reply to Sophie’s obvious fishing.
There was an awkward silence, broken by Olivia returning with the starters.
‘What’s it meant to be, Ol?’ Sophie asked, prodding the food suspiciously with her fork.
‘It’s tilapia in a chilli sauce.’
‘Tilapia is a white fish, isn’t it?’ Sophie frowned. ‘Why is this black?’
‘It has a dusting of cocoa powder,’ Olivia told her cheerfully, as she finished handing plates around.
Everyone looked at her in alarm and began poking tentatively at their food.
‘Well, bon appétit, everyone!’ Olivia said, sitting down and attacking her starter enthusiastically.
Claire cut off a tiny piece of fish and put it gingerly into her mouth. It was absolutely disgusting, but she forced herself to swallow it.
Sophie had no such compunction. ‘Ugh! It’s chocolate fish.’ She grimaced, pushing her plate away after one bite. ‘That’s vile, Ol!’
‘Claire seems to like it, don’t you, Claire?’ Olivia said.
‘It’s, um… interesting.’ Claire had managed to dig out some fish from beneath the cocoa topping and was valiantly chewing it. The rest she was trying to hack up and move around so that it would look like she’d eaten more.
‘No, she doesn’t,’ Sophie said flatly. ‘She’s just being polite.’
‘You don’t have to eat any more of it,’ Mark said to Claire. ‘It’s terrible.’
Thankfully, the next course of pork in vanilla sauce was marginally more successful.
‘Pork and custard!’ Sophie pronounced, and that was exactly what it tasted like. But at least the sauce could be avoided, and Olivia hadn’t added any ‘gourmet’ touches to the vegetables.
‘So, what’s the news?’ Sophie asked, as they ate. ‘What did I miss while I was in rehab?’
‘Mark’s publishing that blog, “Scenes of a Sexual Nature”,’ Emma told her.