Chapter Twenty-One
‘. . . okay, my turn. My dream, my ultimate dream, yeah?’ Rosie dragged a semi-drunken hand over her head, sending spirals of hair ricocheting off her skull. ‘And for the record Jase, I still think yours is pathetic.’
‘Hey, there’s nothin’ wrong in ownin’ an island. Plenty of time to paint.’
‘If you say so.’ Rosie adjusted the weight of Harry who was sleeping in her arms. ‘Hmmm. My ultimate dream.’ She glanced around the room and I saw her gaze come to rest on the half-finished pile of cards on the table. ‘I want to see Saskia lose all her money, and get struck ugly. Oh, and live happily ever after. That’s me, not her. Your turn, Jem.’
I pushed my seat back from the table. Rosie had cooked up one of her classic lasagnes and my stomach felt like it might be forming an independent state. Perhaps Jason would like to own it. I opened my mouth to say this and then saw the way Jason was looking at Rosie. ‘Thass your ultimate dream, is it? To see the back of Saskia?’ His voice was very gentle and I knew neither of them were interested in my ultimate fantasy. Which, I might add, I had no idea about.
Rosie nodded, bending her head to kiss her sleeping son.
‘Well,’ Jason reached out and stroked her hair. ‘Thass one dream won’t come true. Two dreams, yours and mine.’
There was such a terrible tenderness in the way he spoke that I suddenly felt like the world’s largest gooseberry. ‘I ought to go. Ben said he’d be over around tennish to give me a lift back — he’s chewing the fat with Zafe this evening. I’ll wait out at the bus stop, save him having to turn round in the lane. Thanks for dinner, Rosie.’
‘I’ll walk with you.’
‘No, it’s okay, Jase.’
But he was already grabbing a jacket and forcing his arms down the sleeves. ‘Aw, come on Jem. I still wants to hear your ultimate dream. I reckon it’s gonna be filthy.’
Rosie laughed and stood up. ‘And I’d better get this lad to bed.’
‘Thass exactly what I’m hopin’ Jem’s gonna say. Her ultimate dream, yeah?’ Jason nudged me. ‘Can’t fight it forever, girl.’ But once outside, as we moved through the twilight, he dropped the act. ‘We got problems, Jem. Big problems.’
‘I knew there was something up. Why is Rosie so off with you tonight? You haven’t made another pass, have you?’
But he didn’t rise to the humour. Instead, he stared out into the gathering dusk, more focused than I’d ever seen him when he wasn’t working. He looked even more Johnny Depp-like than usual. Still didn’t fancy him, though.
‘I’ve come to care about you and Rosie like the sisters I never had,’ he said at last.
‘You’ve got sisters, Jason, you hate them both.’
‘Yeah, that’s why I care about you two. You’re the nice sisters I never had.’ A brief smile flashed in oncoming headlights. ‘An’ I am really worried about Rosie. She’s told me some stuff — look, she had to , all right? It was eatin’ her up and you’ve got your own stuff goin’ down an’ I found her — doesn’t matter. Promised I wouldn’t tell ya, so, you know how it goes.’
‘Not really. Surely if it’s that bad—’
‘You’re keeping Ben’s secrets, aren’t you?’
‘It’s not my secret to tell.’
‘There y’go then. But I will tell you this. We gotta get Saskia and Rosie away from each other.’
‘I’m all for that. She’s ruining Rosie’s life with her constant orders. Trouble is Saskia is her only customer now, she’s had to drop everyone else but because Saskia pays so well it’s all been fine. What would she do if Saskia did stop ordering?’
Jason shrugged. ‘She’d survive. Maybe the two of you could set up together?’
‘Great idea, but you’re missing the fact that eBay have still got me banned and the whole of York regards me as marginally less marketable than typhoid.’
‘It’ll straighten out. Now you’ve got Ben.’
‘I’m not going to be living off him, if that’s what you’re thinking.’ Even the thought of being financially dependent made my breath thicken in my throat. ‘I’ve got plans. Well, sort of. I’m planning to get Saskia to tell the Board of Trade members to start stocking me again and that’s a start.’
‘Just get Rosie out from under, Jem. Whatever it takes.’
I shook my head in the darkness, forcing my breathing to steady. In, out. Don’t panic. ‘I’ll do what I can.’
‘Great.’ We walked along elbow to elbow for a bit. Then Jason broke the silence. ‘I’m going back to the States in a couple of weeks. I need to know—.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I need to know Rosie’s okay before I go.’
‘Jase, you old dog, do you fancy our Rosie?’ I prodded him with a finger. ‘Why don’t you ask her to go with you? I’m sure she’d love to see New York and it would be great for Harry. Plus it would get her away from Saskia — I mean, her kind can’t cross water, can they?’
I stopped teasing suddenly. There was an expression that I’d never seen before on Jason’s handsome face. A kind of longing. ‘I would so love to do that.’ Even his voice was different, softer. ‘I asked her. But she wouldn’t come, Jem. She said, maybe one day, when she’s got stuff sorted . . . but I need to go now. Can’t stand around and watch — ach, still not my secret to tell.’
We both focused on the headlights approaching. Even before I could see the big silver car, I recognised its growl. ‘Here’s Ben.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Jason . . .’ But he’d already turned away and folded the darkness around himself like a blanket.
* * *
I climbed into the Audi but Ben didn’t immediately screech away from the kerb. ‘It’s lovely out here,’ he said, buzzing down the driver’s window. ‘Smells fresh. Like childhood.’
‘You are such a romantic, aren’t you?’
‘Never used to be, but, yeah. Maybe I am now.’ He opened the door and slid long legs out onto the kerb, the streetlamps strobing across his face and making him look like a manga character, all limbs, eyes and hair. ‘Let’s walk, Jem.’
‘What, back to York?’
I got a well-worn sort of look for that. ‘Romantic, remember? Just, around.’
I reluctantly climbed back out again and stood next to him on the pavement. ‘Dead romantic this. I’m sure I can smell tomcat-pee.’
‘Probably romantic if you’re a lady cat.’ An arm looped around my shoulders and he drew me into a slow walk. ‘It’s so quiet. Perfect place for a studio.’
‘A studio ? What are you going to do, go into pornographic movies?’
‘Music studio.’ I gave him a look. ‘I’m going to write with Zafe. He’s the music man now but I’ve still got a shed-load of tunes in my head. New material for Willow Down, stuff for the new album — I dream it up and Zafe lays the track down. Plays it for the guys and if they like it, they’ll record. And they do like my stuff, least, they always used to, me and Zafe wrote most of the tracks on the last two albums.’ Ben looked down the street. ‘Wonder if that place is for sale?’
I looked at the impeccably raked gravel drive half-hidden behind the carefully trimmed yew hedge. ‘That’s Saskia’s place. You could make her an offer; I think she’d take you up on just about anything.’
‘Looks cool. Plenty of space.’
The moon made his eyes glow almost amber and his hair shone a tawny leonine shade. He was so clearly enjoying himself, scouting out locations for his future, I didn’t like to say anything which might bring him down, so I just held his hand as he walked closer.
We stood for a while in the shelter of the big hedge and Ben wrapped his arms around me. I had to admit it, it felt good, and I was content just to lean into him, feel him breathe and smell the expensive cologne that he used mingled with the scent of the night. There was a strength to him now, a certainty.
Could I do it? Could I trust him enough?
Gradually though I became aware that Ben’s attention wasn’t on me.
‘ Hey . . . fuck . . .’ His voice was little more than an exhalation.
‘Your language has really gone downhill, you know? I used to think you were such a gentleman.’
But he didn’t even realise I was speaking. Head up, he was looking over the hedge towards the lit windows at the front of the house. ‘So who is he . . . what is this about ?’
‘Ben?’ I touched his shoulder. Slowly his gaze came down to mine.
‘Saskia is . . .’ He raised his chin again. ‘She’s talking on the telephone. Over there, in that room to the left.’
I peered through the branches. Ben was a good six inches taller than me and I couldn’t follow his eyeline but I could see a dim figure moving around inside the house. Pacing, it looked like.
‘She’s talking to . . . hang on . . . someone called Dave. Who’s following . . . who ? Turn this way, bitch, oh yeah, following Alex. That’s her husband isn’t it?’
‘Following? Like a fan you mean?’
But Ben couldn’t hear me. He was too busy listening in his own way to Saskia.
‘She wants photographs. Proof. Jem? Where are you going?’
I turned so that he could read my lips. ‘She’s got it in for me and Rosie already. I’m not going to let her get started on poor Alex as well. This has all gone far enough.’
He jogged to catch me up. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘No idea. We’ll make it up as we go along, shall we?’
In front of the main door I hesitated for just a second, then raised my hand to the huge bronze knocker which bore more scrollwork than a medieval library.
‘Jemima?’ Saskia’s face peered through the gap that the security chain allowed. ‘What on earth are you doing here at this time of night? I didn’t realise you were usually up so late.’
‘I want to talk to you.’
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘No. Well, yes, but only a bit. All right, half a bottle. Ish. And it was only 12%, that rosé stuff that they sell in the shop.’
‘Ah, yes. Cheap plonk.’ Saskia enunciated the words to give them an extra helping of disgust. ‘What did you want to talk about? I presume the state of the nation and the environment, the sort of thing people like you rabbit on about when you’ve had too much alcohol.’
‘No. Important stuff.’ My palms were sweaty now the initial adrenaline rush had worn off. ‘Like, why you’re trying to work Rosie into a nervous breakdown and then burning her stuff. Why you’ve told the York Board of Trade not to touch my things.’
Saskia made a dismissive gesture through the gap. It was truncated by the front door. ‘Your paranoia is really not attractive.’
‘All right. How about, why you’re having your own husband followed? By a man called Dave ? Just what the hell is the matter with you? ’
The door closed for a second then reopened with the chain off. ‘You’d better come inside.’
We walked into the impressive hall with its huge oak staircase winding up to the first floor. The walls dripped with tapestry and hangings, and tiny ornamental tables held objets d’art . Saskia’s personal taste seemed to run to Hollywood Medieval.
She led us through into an office and sat on an overstuffed sofa, knees together and her hands indicating that Ben should sit beside her. I, evidently, could stand wherever I wanted. ‘Now. You might as well get this out of your system, Jemima. Tell me what you’re thinking then you can leave and we can both get on with our lives.’ She threw a little glance at Ben.
I opened my mouth, but before any words could come out the telephone on the desk started ringing. Saskia gave a little start but sat firm, her eyes watchful, as though the handset might begin to smoulder.
‘You’d better get it.’ Ben gave her arm a nudge. He must have picked up what was happening from her body language. ‘Didn’t you tell Dave to ring as soon as he knew anything? He knows you’re waiting for his call.’
Her expression seemed to be under some tight control, but she couldn’t stop disbelief from seeping through. ‘How did you know? Is this room bugged?’
I rolled my eyes at her. ‘Yeah, ’cos we’re a couple of top professional spies. Just answer the phone.’
Reluctantly she stood and picked up the sleek black handset. ‘Hello?’ Then she clamped her lips together, pushing the blood from them until they looked like a pair of albino slugs. ‘Uhuh,’ she said a couple of times. ‘I see.’ And then. ‘She’s in his car? Yes, thank you, but you can forget about the pictures. I know who it is now.’
Ben and I looked at each other. Understanding was blooming through my mind, connections being made. I didn’t know how far behind Ben’s comprehension was running so I took the initiative. I leaned forward and disconnected the call, leaving Saskia standing, a single tear caught in the act of running down her cheek.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘So. You suspected that Alex was having an affair with Rosie or me, you didn’t know which one, so you punished us both. Cutting off my sales outlets, and trying to work Rosie into what? Post-natal depression? You knew she was feeling a bit shaky after Harry was born, so you decided to push her over the edge?’ I moved closer, so that I was looking her right in the eye. ‘Am I getting warm?’
The tears were beading down her cheeks now. Her throat moved as a sob tried to escape.
‘And you burned down Ben’s shop, made a false report to eBay, all just to get even with me for something I wasn’t even doing ?’
‘You don’t understand—’ Saskia’s voice was thick.
‘Too right, I don’t. What kind of a lunatic behaves like that? Who puts other people out of business because they might be up to something? You are seriously deranged, Saskia.’
Ben gave me a serious look. ‘Jem, steady.’
‘I am going to repeat this very slowly. She. Burned . Down . Your . Shop . All your things, the guitars, everything. Just to stop you selling my buckles. Do the words “call the police” mean anything to you?’
‘The insurance people were satisfied it was kids playing with lighters. They’re paying up.’
‘And I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ Saskia sounded earnest. And, for once, honest. ‘I’d heard you suspected me, something Rosie said. But you said nothing, did nothing. For that, I’m grateful.’
‘Wasn’t really enough evidence,’ I said, grudgingly. Wouldn’t want Saskia attributing philanthropy to me. ‘Just a seed head. I thought you might have had it stuck to you or something when you went down there.’
‘I’m giving you the lease.’ Saskia went back to looking at Ben. ‘Making it over to you. The shop in the Shambles is yours. You can do what you like with it.’ A quick look at me. ‘ Sell what you like.’
I breathed hard and clenched my fists. I wanted, so much , just to punch her little Pekinese face, but the steady trickle of mascara-laced tears made me stop. It was the first time I’d ever seen Saskia lose control. ‘But why ? Why all this drama? Why not confront Alex? Tell him to go, if he’s shagging around?’
‘Have you ever been in love, Jemima?’ Her voice was a whisper, broken by catches in her breath. ‘Truly, utterly in love? And known all the time that you were driving the other person away? And you knew what you were doing but you still couldn’t stop yourself — pushing them away when they wanted to be close and then wanting them to touch you but afraid of what would happen if they did . . .’
Something made of ice crept down my spine. I refused to look at Ben. ‘I can imagine.’
‘No, you can’t! Look at you with your no make-up and your skinny little jeans and your flimsy tops, all “I’m so beautiful I don’t have to try”. What do you think it’s like to have to try, every day, knowing that it’s getting harder and harder and one day it’s all going to fall apart? And watching the person that you love most finding other people more attractive—’ A sob broke through and she stopped. Forced several deep breaths. ‘Even when they weigh the same as a small car and have the dress sense of Judith Chalmers,’ she finished, with the old Saskia springing to the fore once again. ‘It would have been better if it had been you. At least you’re pretty.’ She was back to the whisper again.
‘Alex was working away such a lot, up until this summer. But he suddenly decided to change his arrangements so he could work from home, with Oscar starting school. So that he could see more of his son . . .’
The realisation hit all three of us at once. ‘He’s Harry’s father.’ I said it first. ‘The bastard.’
A watery smile creased Saskia’s mouth. ‘Sympathy for the devil, Jemima?’
‘No, I meant, all that time when Rosie was frantic trying to look after Harry and get all those cards made for you. Jase and I were looking after Harry, where was Alex?’
‘But what could he do?’ Ben joined in. ‘He couldn’t offer to help without arousing suspicion. And you were quite happy to help, Jem, particularly when you were getting low-rate board-and-lodging at the cottage.’
‘I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.’ I sat down hard. ‘All that time, she’s been sneaking off to see him — I can’t believe she didn’t give me one hint. I thought Harry’s dad had been some one-night-stand. Not this.’
‘What am I going to do?’ Saskia’s wail would have aroused more sympathy in me if she hadn’t promptly turned to Ben and thrown herself against his shoulder, continuing to speak muffled into his shirt. ‘I love him.’
Panicked, Ben looked at me over her head. ‘Is she talking?’ His eyes were wide. ‘What’s she saying?’
I stared at Saskia. The sound of my heartbeat was drowning out my thoughts. This was love. This was what it brought you to. You loved and you were left . ‘So. We confront them.’
‘We?’ Saskia raised her head. The mascara streaking her face made her look fragile, like a made-for-TV movie heroine.
‘Well, what were you thinking of doing?’ I knew my voice was sharp. ‘Letting it all go on?’
‘I don’t know.’ Once again Saskia looked humble. ‘I think I was afraid. I wanted to know but I didn’t want to know , if you see what I mean. If I had no proof then I could pretend it was just me, being silly.’
My mouth twisted. Silly? Only little girls were silly . Full grown women were stupid or blind.
‘But things were getting worse. I’d started writing it down every time he was away, or out, or working late, trying to find a pattern. But it was all so random, just half-an-hour here, an afternoon there, nothing I could pin down. And then a friend of mine recommended this man, this Dave , as someone who could make things happen.’
I shrugged off Ben’s hand. ‘Right, come on Saskia.’
Between us we escorted Saskia to the cottage where Jason was cross-legged but alone in the armchair.
‘Rosie’s press-ganged me into babysitting the little guy. Said she had something to do.’
I felt the tremor run down Saskia’s arm. ‘We think we know what that something was.’
Jason looked at Saskia. ‘Bloody hell, girl. Looks like you’ve done ten rounds with Estee Lauder.’ He glanced away, down at the carpet. ‘I presume you found out then.’
‘You knew ?’ Ben, Saskia and I all chorused together.
‘She had to tell someone , it’s been eating her alive.’
‘She could have told me.’ I was more hurt than I could have thought possible. Rosie was my friend . And how many nights had we spent, during the pregnancy and after it, choking down tears of laughter as we speculated on the parentage of her baby together. It had all been lies.
The sound of a big car’s engine on the road struck us all dumb. Except for Ben until I mouthed, ‘It’s Alex. Outside.’
Ben let go of Saskia and headed out of the front door, whilst at the same time Rosie came in the back. Saskia burst out crying again. Proper hard sobbing, not picturesque tears this time. Jason put his arm around her, scruffy but chivalrous.
Rosie stood in the kitchen doorway and stared at us. I watched the expressions cross her face, bewilderment, slow-dawning comprehension, and finally relief. ‘Saskia?’
‘Don’t talk to me, you husband-stealing bitch.’
I put myself between the women. ‘We know about Alex.’
Rosie gave a small smile. ‘I gathered.’
‘Ben’s gone to get him.’
‘Okay.’ Disconcertingly unabashed she turned back into the kitchen and began filling the kettle. I followed her and watched while she got mugs and coffee from the cupboard.
‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ I said. Emotions ran riot around my adrenal glands. ‘I thought you might have told me.’
Rosie shrugged. ‘Nothing to tell.’
Anger rose again. ‘Right. Just say that to Saskia, would you?’
A rising cry from Saskia indicated Alex’s arrival in the living room via the front of the cottage. Rose and I reached the doorway in time to see her launch herself at him across the room, ululating as she went, hands raised in fists in front of her face. ‘You—’
Alex looked scared. ‘Sas?’ Then he looked over at Rosie and I was surprised to see the same expression of relief on his face as on hers. ‘I guess it’s over.’
Saskia’s shriek of grief sawed across my nerve endings. It sounded as though her world was ending. ‘No! Please, don’t say that.’ And she stopped the rather pathetic slapping that she had been doing and flung her arms around Alex’s not-exactly-inadequate torso. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a cold bitch, I’ve just been so scared and it’s the way I was brought up. My parents were the same and I don’t know how to love you but I’ll try, I really will try.’ She raised her porcelain face to his. ‘We could try counselling?’
‘I meant, that the pretence was over.’ Alex rested his chin on the top of her head. He had to stand a little bit on tiptoe to do it. ‘I’m sorry, Saskia. I should have come clean a long time ago, but . . .’
‘It was the village May Fair, last spring.’ Rosie stood in the doorway wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘We both got very, very drunk.’
‘I had to carry you home,’ I said. ‘And you were sick down my blue jumper.’
‘I knew I’d had sex with someone but I couldn’t remember who. And then Alex came round to apologise. Kept apologising, too. It’s all right, Saskia, he thought I was you.’
All of us looked from plump, dark-haired Rosie to blonde, broomhandle Saskia. ‘Blind drunk were you?’
‘It — look, I really was incredibly smashed.’ Alex stared at the worn carpet. ‘I mean, almost too drunk to do anything. But Sas had been helping out with the drinks and I went round to the back of the bar tent, saw her bending over to pick up the empties and — well, by the time I realised it wasn’t Sas, it was all over.’
‘It was terrible sex,’ Rosie agreed. ‘Really, really shocking.’
‘And Rosie and I, we agreed we wouldn’t mention it again.’
‘Ever,’ Rosie put in.
‘She didn’t even tell me she was expecting until I met her in the shop a couple of weeks before—’ His eyes raised ceilingwards. ‘Didn’t even tell me then, actually, I just, kind of deduced.’
‘I was the size of a bungalow. He couldn’t have missed it.’
‘And then, of course, I offered to pay but Rosie wouldn’t have it. Said that I’d hardly been present at the conception, it wasn’t really worth my while being present for the baby. But I — well. I love Oscar so much, I didn’t want this chap . . . Harry to miss out on a dad, so I — well, I’ve been getting together with Rosie just for updates and suchlike and also . . .’ Alex tailed off, scuffed a foot on the carpet, looking every inch the prep-school boy he’d no doubt once been.
‘He gives me stuff. Food, nappies, that kind of thing. Just to help out.’ Rosie shook her head. ‘I’d sort of convinced myself that Harry was some kind of immaculate conception. I don’t remember the sex. But Alex was so keen on doing the right thing. He’s even been taking me over to Blandford to look over the place.’
‘You were going to send him to the same school as Oscar?’ Saskia looked aghast. I wasn’t sure if it was because she thought Harry would lower the tone or whether it was some bizarre taboo in Upper-Class-Land.
Alex looked more shamefaced, which was nearly impossible; his expression almost reached his knees as it was. ‘We would have had to put his name down before his first birthday, so I wanted Rosie to see what the place was like.’
‘It’s very nice,’ she put in. ‘And Oscar does like Harry.’
‘Oscar knows ?’
‘Good God, no. Look Sas.’ Alex tilted her chin down so that she looked him in the eye. ‘Rosie and I — there never was a Rosie and me. We’ve been trying to deal with the repercussions as best we could without anyone getting hurt. I’m not sorry you found out, but I am sorry that you feel so betrayed. I do love you, I always have.’ Then, after a pause. ‘But maybe counselling might be a good idea?’
Ben, Jason and I repaired to the kitchen to allow the three of them to talk more privately.
‘Anyone else think they’re protestin’ way, way too much?’ Jason asked succinctly, around a rich tea biscuit.
‘Yes, but they’re obviously happy to have it over. Maybe they only carried it on for something to do, some kind of physical connection. After all, Saskia hardly looks like she’s handing out the cuddles on a nightly basis, and life must be pretty lonely for Rosie sometimes. Maybe they both got caught up in the excitement of being illicit. Alex obviously loves Saskia.’ Ben looked at the closed door. ‘And she must love him to have done all those shitty things to you. I guess she wanted you both to pack up and leave, so she’d got him to herself again.’
‘You look happy, Jason. Family conflict turns you on, does it?’ I eyeballed him sternly.
‘Nah. But now things are out in the open, it all works for me. Rosie told me, yeah, that she wanted to go public with everything but she couldn’t risk Sas taking the work away. So she had to put up and shut up and she wouldn’t go to the States with me ’cos it would mean taking Hazzer away from his dad.’
‘It still would.’
‘Yeah, but now Sas knows, Alex could fly over and visit or be there at the end of the phone. Now, just maybe, she’ll start making a new life that isn’t full of secret rendyvooz.’
‘With you?’ Ben looked square at Jason and raised his eyebrows. I gathered that Jason and Rosie had been the subject of some Man-Talk.
‘Hope so.’ Jason gave a grin. ‘I really hope so.’
‘Yeah. Secrets are no basis for a relationship.’ There was an edge to the way Ben looked at me. ‘Let’s go home, Jem.’
‘Oho, please excuse my presence,’ Jason exclaimed. ‘You two want to do the nasty thing, you just carry on.’
I was feeling a bit shaken. Saskia’s meltdown had reinforced my opinion that love meant you left yourself open. ‘Yes. Let’s go.’
Ben gave me that look again, joggling the car keys from hand to hand. ‘Come on.’ He dipped his head to whisper in my ear. ‘Let’s get away from the high drama.’
Jason winked at me and mouthed ‘ice cubes’, then helped himself to another biscuit.