Devil in Disguise (45 page)

‘You
know, Molly, I’m far from sure about the wisdom of my life’s course. My
particular niche on the sexuality gamut, for the illicit pleasure it has
brought me, seems now to have left me high and dry. The outcome I find most
irksome is my solitude. My relationships, such as they were, never developed
because commitment was anathema to me. The very mention of it would curdle my
blood, I swear. I would lie awake at night, eyes aflame with dastardly plans to
snare my next victim. Quick, dirty, dangerous sex was my only motivation in
life. Back then, a conveyor-belt of deliciously unattainable men was forever
running through my mind. My laughable career was an exciting diversion, I
admit. While I was hot, and the flavour of the season, I felt as if everything
I touched would turn to gold. But after you left Genita left too. It was back
to sex and drink to fill the hours.

‘And
when you lose the imperative urge to go looking for the next notch on the
bedpost, you’re fucked in the other sense — left in some sort of vacuum.
Poverty, in all its forms — financial, creative and emotional — is suddenly to
be heard scratching at the door. One day it sounds like a gerbil, but within a
week there’s a wild boar out there and the timber’s splintering. After a while
there’s nothing to do but stare at the walls and listen to your inner dialogue
— never an enticing prospect in my case. A dark and dirty tale. With only drink
as a friend, you become socially inept. The thought of conversing, having eye
contact and “enjoying” company of any sort withers. The part of the brain that
deals with interaction and intimacy on every level dies from lack of use, and
desire is replaced with fear. So it’s goodnight, Vienna.’ He came to the end of
his speech and smiled wanly.

Molly
took his hand and squeezed it. ‘That’s why you must get better,’ she said. ‘To
make up for the lost years.’

Three weeks after he had
been admitted to UCH, Simon was told he would soon be able to go home. The idea
of returning to his flat filled him with dread, and he was considering Roger’s
offer of the sofa-bed in his small apartment when Molly came up with her own
suggestion. ‘I want you to come and stay in Kent. It’s beautiful — fresh
country air, new-laid eggs and me to look after you.’

‘Really?
Could you stand me?’

‘Of
course I could. I want you to meet my boys. I’ve told Rupert all about you and
he insists you come.’

‘And
will I get to meet the famous Lilia?’

‘Oh,
yes.’ Molly frowned. ‘Lilia, too, of course.’

‘If the
magazines are to be believed, you don’t cross the road unless she tells you
to.’

Molly
laughed a little uncomfortably. ‘It’s not quite as bad as that, even if Lilia
would like it to be.’

‘Is
everything all right?’ Simon asked, quick to pick up on Molly’s emotions even
now. ‘You seem a bit troubled.’

‘I’m
fine,’ Molly said, but she couldn’t quite meet his eye. ‘You’ve got enough to
worry about without my woes adding to it. Things are not quite as easy as they
might be. Lilia and Rupert have taken it upon themselves to sack the nanny, and
Lilia’s looking after the children.’

‘Really?
Isn’t she about a hundred?’

‘Not in
the first flush, despite all the help money can buy. She’s been wonderful to me
over the years, an absolute rock. She guided me to where I am today … but
she’s being a bit odd at the moment. She won’t hear of a new nanny, and every
time I get a CV from the agency, she finds a reason why this one’s no good.
She’s taken to whispering to Rupert constantly about goodness knows what, and
spending all her time with the children. I’m being selfish, probably. I’m used
to having her attention focused on me.’

‘Mmm.
Well, I can’t wait to meet her,’ said Simon.

‘You’ll
probably love her. She’s a scream, even if she’s a bit strange sometimes.’
Molly smiled. ‘Good! It’s settled. You’re coming to Kent to rest and get
healthy. Let’s tell Roger the good news.’

A few days later Molly’s
driver arrived at the hospital and Simon was transported, with his goody bag of
pills, to the secluded peace of Molly and Rupert’s country home. It was a
blustery autumn afternoon, and as the car made its stately way up the gravel
drive towards the house a cloud of crisp burnt-orange and red leaves flew up and
over them like confetti.

Simon
was impressed by the beauty of the rambling red-brick Elizabethan house. As the
car drew to a halt on the driveway, Molly appeared at the door, jumping up and
down with excitement, dressed in jeans and a stripy cardigan.

She
welcomed him with an affectionate kiss. ‘You’re here! Let me take your bag.
I’ll show you upstairs.’

He
followed her up the staircase to a large, light bedroom on the first floor.
‘This is gorgeous,’ he said, looking at the mahogany bed, then up at the beamed
ceiling and out through the latticed window to the vegetable garden below.
‘What a wonderful house.’

‘I love
this room,’ said Molly. ‘In fact, I gave birth on that bed. Twice.’

‘Darling,
I’m recovering from a near-death experience. I don’t want that vision in my
head.’

‘Too
late,’ laughed Molly. ‘Have a rest, and when you’re ready we’ll have tea in the
drawing room. That’s down the stairs and follow the sound of children. They’re
dying to meet you, and Leo is wearing his Spider-Man costume in your honour.’

‘How
touching.’

‘Lilia
is here and Rupert will be back soon. He’s been having lunch with Craig
Revel-Horwood so he’ll probably be wrecked.’

‘What’s
he seeing her for?’

‘He’s
trying to persuade Craig to take on the role of Ariel in a stadium tour of
The
Tempest.
They’ve already cast Bruno Tomoli as Caliban, Len Goodman as
Prospero and Arlene Phillips as Miranda. He’s the last piece of the jigsaw,
really.’

‘It’ll
be a sell-out. See you downstairs when you’re ready.’

Simon
did his meagre unpacking and arranged his pills by his bedside. He already felt
the calm and warmth of the house entering him and comforting him. He didn’t
stay for a rest but went downstairs quickly, eager to meet Molly’s children. In
the drawing room, two blond boys were playing, one in a miniature red
Spider-Man suit and the other, who was smaller, in overalls caked with
Play-Doh.

‘Here’s
Simon!’ announced Molly. ‘He’s come to stay with us. Say hello!’

The
boys approached him, a little shy.

‘Why
doesn’t he have any hair?’ asked Leo, taking off his Spider-Man mask.

‘Leo!’
exclaimed Molly. ‘You mustn’t be rude like that.’

‘It’s
all right, Molls.’ Simon gazed down at the wide blue eyes looking up at him. He
sat down on the sofa. ‘If you really want to know the truth, I donated my hair
to a very good friend, Arthur the Spider. You see, Arthur needed to spin an
extra large web one day and…’ The next minute he was lost in the tale he was
making up, and both of the children were leaning on his knees, listening
intently. Once the story was over, the boys shrieked with excitement and
climbed all over Simon until Molly had to tell them off.

‘Careful,
boys! Simon hasn’t been very well.’

‘It’s
all right, Molly, I don’t mind,’ he said, wincing a little as Bertie’s foot
landed on his skinny thigh. Then he noticed a small, stiff, red-haired old
woman standing in the doorway, wearing a blue apron over a silk tea-dress and
recognised her: she’d been in the royal box at the Palladium that night. The
famous Lilia. Molly saw where he was looking. ‘Lilia, please come and meet
Simon.’

‘I’ve
heard so much about you,’ he said, giving her his most charming smile and
standing up.

Lilia
approached slowly. ‘Yes,’ she said, shaking his hand weakly. ‘Pleased to meet
you. If I’d known you were coming I’d have baked a cake.’

The
words were uttered with such casual sincerity it took him a moment to realise
how withering they were really intended to be. He watched her as she clucked
round the children, gathering them up to go through to the kitchen for tea.
What struck Simon most was the similarity between Molly and Lilia. Their hair
was exactly the same shade of coppery, vibrant red. Lilia even seemed to have
adopted some of Molly’s mannerisms, tossing her head backwards when she
laughed, if a little more stiffly than Molly did. Before she left the room with
Leo and Bertie, she turned back to Simon and said, ‘I’m preparing dinner
tonight. Are there any allergies or restrictions I should know about? I take it
I should leave the sherry out of the trifle.’

‘Yes,
thank you,’ Simon said politely. ‘I’m an alcohol-free zone, I’m afraid. Apart
from that, I’ll be delighted with anything.’

He
turned to Molly when Lilia had left the room. ‘Blimey. She’s a game old bird,
that one.’

‘I owe
her everything,’ said Molly.

‘She’s
had a bit of work done, hasn’t she?’

‘A bit!
She’s had her eyelids done, her forehead, chin, neck and boobs, then
liposuction, and more Botox than an entire front row at London Fashion Week.
It’s all tax deductible, she keeps telling me.’

‘Is she
trying to be you or are you trying to be her? I can’t work it out.’

‘Well,
it used to be me being styled by her in her own image. But lately I seem to be
leading the way. She copies me.’

‘I can
see that. But she’s not quite pulling it off. Camp, though, I’ll give her
that.’

‘Oh,
Simon,’ said Molly, smiling, ‘it’s so good to have you around again. You’ve
always had a way of looking at the world that makes everything seem okay.’

Simon
was too tired to take much notice of what was going on around him that evening.
Rupert came home and was welcoming and friendly, and Simon thought he seemed
lovely, but he really only wanted to get to bed.

Over
the next few days, though, he began to feel better. He had nothing to do but
sleep, eat and rest, while Molly made sure he had everything he needed. The
children already adored him and were keen to play and have more stories, but
Molly had to shoo them away when Uncle Simon was too tired to be boisterous,
which was quite often.

He
watched with interest as the family dynamics swirled around him. Rupert was
gone early in the mornings and returned just in time to read his boys a bedtime
story. He seemed very affectionate to Molly, always gathering her up in a hug
or giving her a tender kiss. Molly was an adoring if somewhat chaotic mother,
making as much mess when she was trying to clear up as there had been to start
with, and the boys were happy, healthy and energetic.

But the
person who interested him most was Lilia, the old lady who had changed Molly’s
life so profoundly. She was constantly in the background, watching and
observing, making herself indispensable. She did most of the cooking and looked
after the practicalities of the children. A cleaner-cum-housekeeper came in for
three hours a day, and Lilia was decidedly brisk with her, making sure that
standards were maintained, the laundry and ironing properly organised, the
cupboards stocked and meals planned.

She
spent the day in a pinny, but when Rupert came home, she changed into a smart
dress, makeup and jewellery and became a charming woman, eager to make sure
that Rupert had everything he wanted and playing the flirtatious, pampering
housewife to the master of the house. She’s the hub of this household, thought
Simon. She’s made herself the heart of the place.

All the
time, he noticed that Lilia was watching him. Her green eyes were always fixed
on him but she was never smiling. She rarely spoke to him, except on the
memorable occasion when she stopped as they passed in the corridor and glared
at him.

‘I must
ask you to stay away from the children,’ she said, with the tone and authority
of an experienced police officer.

‘Excuse
me?’ said Simon.

‘Whatever
you have, it may be catching,’ she said matter-of-factly. She turned and
carried on down the passage, leaving Simon speechless.

‘Ignore
her,’ Molly said, when he told her.

‘I
don’t think she likes me.’

‘You’re
not alone. It’s only me she likes.’

‘And
Rupert,’ Simon said, looking at Molly carefully.

‘Oh,
yes, she loves Rupert.’

‘She
certainly does. To distraction,’ muttered Simon, but Molly didn’t seem to
notice the implication behind his words.

One
day, a week after he had arrived, Simon was enjoying the warmth of the
afternoon sunshine as he reclined on one of the patio sun-loungers. He closed
his eyes, feeling the heat fill his bones.

‘Excuse
me,’ said a low voice.

He
opened his eyes to see Lilia standing next to his chair. She was staring at him
with flinty green eyes. ‘Yes. I want to speak to you.’

‘I’m
all ears.’ Simon gave her a small, tight smile. He’d been expecting something
like this.

The old
woman sat down in the chair next to his and folded her hands together. ‘Why
Molly has allowed you back into her life I cannot imagine. I guess you played
your trump card. Made her think you were at death’s door. Well, you don’t fool
me. I put the poor, shattered Molly back together after your sordid, selfish
affair with Daniel. She may forgive you but I do not.’