A Rural Affair (42 page)

‘I’ve no idea. You’re still going ahead with it, then, are you? Without the Armitages?’ I said nervously.

‘Well, they can come if they like but they need to know we won’t be reading Chekhov,’ Peggy said archly. Suddenly she stiffened,
her face alert. ‘Ten to ten,’ she hissed.

I frowned. ‘For the book club? Isn’t that rather late?’

‘No, attractive widower, ten to ten.’ Peggy’s late husband had been in the RAF. ‘Covert, Poppy, covert,’ she muttered as I
turned to stare at a rather donnish-looking gent in a worn corduroy jacket, who’d come into view down the hill, a Jack Russell
on a lead trotting beside him. They made for the
shop. ‘With his dog again,’ Peggy observed, as he tied the terrier up outside, ‘which he’ll take back via the woods for a
run. See you later, Poppy.’ She stubbed out her cigarette in the little ashtray she kept in her bag and snapped it shut. Her
mouth twitched. ‘I’m off to borrow Leila.’ And with that she sauntered across the road in the direction of Jennie’s house,
velvet coat floating behind her.

Angie, however, wasn’t so thrilled when she banged on my door that evening. I’d been taking things at something of a canter,
keen as I was to get the children bathed and into bed, thereby giving myself plenty of time to sink into my own bath and prepare
for my date tonight. My date. My heart lurched and fingers fluttered as I cut up the soldiers for the boiled eggs, but not
in the right way, I realized. Not in a pitter-patter nervous-excitement way, in more of a … well, plain nervous way, actually.
But perhaps that was normal? After all, it was years since I’d been out with anyone and I had rather set the tone for this
one by kissing Luke firmly on the lips and telling him I’d be happy to come to his place. Had rather shown my hand. Still.
That didn’t necessarily mean tonight had to be anything other than a very pleasant meal, did it? Of course not. And Luke was
a nice guy; there was no way he’d be expecting anything else, surely? I recalled Luke’s eyes, bright with possibility at what
he’d perceived to be very much the green light from me, and promptly dropped Archie’s egg cup. As I picked up the shattered
pieces of china I decided I needed to calm down. I also decided that I wouldn’t drink too much, but that I would, after all,
shave my legs.

Which was why it was not terribly convenient when Angie banged on my door at about seven o’clock. So hard I jumped
out of the bath and ran downstairs to answer it with wet hair and bleach cream on my upper lip.

‘Clearly you both think I’m a complete tart!’ she stormed, pushing past me in the doorway, not even commenting on my moustache,
and making for the kitchen.

She opened the fridge door and seized a bottle of white wine although she’d patently had most of one already; her eyes were
pink and glassy, always Angie’s giveaway. I hastened after her in my dressing gown, wiping off the bleach as I went, knowing
instantly what she meant.

‘No, of
course
we don’t, Angie,’ I urged, thinking this really couldn’t be more inconvenient as she hunted down a couple of glasses in my
cupboard and poured two hefty slugs of Chardonnay.

‘You obviously think that just because I had a teensy crush on Pete, I’m hopping into bed with all and sundry and getting
knocked up in the process. Flinging pregnancy tests over my shoulder as I go!’

Oh, Lord. Furious. Livid, in fact. All my fault. ‘No one’s saying that, Angie. It’s just that for Frankie’s sake we thought
–’

‘I mean, who did you think it was, hm?’ Her eyes blazed at me as she sank a good two inches of wine in one gulp. ‘Bonkers
Bob, perhaps? Did you think I’d wrestled him out of his raincoat and got down to it in his revolting farmhouse? Or maybe his
sidekick, Frank? Perhaps you thought I couldn’t resist the twirling moustache and had a burning desire to see him naked but
for his dandruff?’

‘Don’t be silly. It’s just we had to discount anyone who’d been in Jennie’s house, that’s all. And who was young enough’ –
I added toadily, hoping she didn’t know Peggy had also been accused – ‘to, you know, get pregnant.’

This mollified her slightly. She pulled out a chair at my
table and slumped into it, looking alarmingly permanent. ‘Hm, well,’ she grunted, knocking back another hefty slug and refilling
her glass. ‘Yes, of course I
could
still get pregnant, I’m not that ancient. But I’m not seeing anyone, you know.’

She looked more shattered than angry now. Her face soft and vulnerable beneath her make-up.

‘I know, I know,’ I said soothingly, sitting down beside her.

‘It’s not even as if I’m dating.’

‘Well, quite. Stupid of us.’

‘And anyway, I still love Tom.’

I didn’t say anything; sat very still. This was quite an admission. Usually she hated Tom. She seemed unaware of me, though.
Stared into space.

‘You know he’s on his own again?’ she said at length, more to the wall than to me.

‘No, I didn’t know that. Since when?’

‘Since Tatiana went back to New Zealand. Wants to pursue her dangerous sports, apparently. As if nicking my husband wasn’t
enough of one.’

‘So … is there hope?’

‘That’s exactly what I wondered,’ she said sadly, ‘when Clarissa told me. Said Daddy was on his own. I thought: perhaps there’s
hope? And then I ran into Bella Stewart, who’d sat next to him at a dinner party last week, and in his cups he’d told her
he’d been a stupid arse. So, silly tart that I am, d’you know what I did?’

‘What,’ I said, guessing.

‘I rang him. And left a message on his answering machine which I hadn’t thought out beforehand. A long, breathless one about
how maybe we could be civilized for the children and maybe he could pop round for supper sometime. And
then right at the end –’ she gulped and her eyes filled – ‘I – said I missed him.’

I reached out. Covered her hand with mine and squeezed it. ‘That’s not so terrible, Angie.’

She glanced down and a tear escaped. Fled down her face and dropped on her lap. She wiped it away savagely. ‘Except that that
was two days ago and I haven’t heard a dicky bird since. And no, he’s not away. Clarissa said she spoke to him at the cottage
yesterday. You see, I just thought – if he came for supper, in the lovely home we’d created together over the years, he wouldn’t
be able to resist it – me. And of course the girls go and meet him so I don’t have that. If they were younger he’d have to
pick them up from home. Realize what he’d given up. I could be on the doorstep looking radiant, dressed up, a spot of scent.
Roses on the hall table.’

‘Yes, yes, I see,’ I said gently.

She swallowed. Attempted a brave smile but it wobbled. ‘You know, it’s insulting enough to be left for another woman, Poppy,
but to be left for no one, for a vacuum to be preferable …’ She fell silent. Ran a fingertip around the rim of her wine glass.
Round and round it went.

‘I can’t stop making a fool of myself,’ she whispered.

‘That’s not true.’

‘It is. It is true. Pete. Tom.’ She paused. ‘I made a fool of myself with Sam Hetherington too,’ she said quietly. ‘After
the hunt. Not that I care now.’

‘Did you?’ I felt all my sinews stiffen.

‘We all went back to his place for tea. It’s a bit of a tradition at the end of a day’s hunting, for anyone left in the saddle
to wind up where you started, where the meet was, except it’s hardly tea. Bottles of whisky come out and everyone drinks jolly
hard, I can tell you. Well, as you know, I’d already had a
few pre-match tinctures at the meet, so by about five o’clock I was flying. Particularly since I had to wait until everyone
had gone before I could – you know.’ She fell silent.

‘Proposition him?’ I prompted breathlessly, unable to resist.

‘Oh, I didn’t jump him or anything,’ she said hastily. ‘Just asked if he was taking anyone to the hunt ball on Saturday, and
if not, since we both seemed to be on our tod, whether we shouldn’t team up together. In the nicest possible way, of course.’

‘Of course.’ I was rapt. ‘And?’

‘He sort of laughed and said he wasn’t sure what his plans were. So I persisted. Will I ever learn? I said, “Come on, Prince
Charming, how about taking Cinders to the ball?” Even plucked a rose from a vase and put it between my teeth, perched coquettishly
on his kitchen table in my jodhpurs. I was well and truly smashed, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’ I was trying hard to hide my agogness.

‘And he was terribly charming. Removed the rose and escorted me to my horse box where Libby, my groom, was waiting to drive
me home. Said he was really sorry, but since he was hosting the thing, he thought he’d be pretty busy. It was only when I
threw my arms round his neck – all in front of Libby, incidentally, who didn’t know where to look – that he disentangled me
and told me there was someone he couldn’t get over. That he wasn’t quite ready for “teaming up” with anyone. His ex, I suppose.’

‘Yes. I suppose.’ Suddenly I felt the need to hide my face. I got to my feet and went to the sink, busying myself on a spurious
errand of hanging out a dishcloth, hoping she’d go. I wanted my heart to sink alone, not in company. Angie didn’t seem inclined
to move, though.

She sighed. ‘So there we have it.’ She gave an ironic little laugh. ‘Two unattached men, one of whom I have children by, both
of whom would rather be alone than with me. Marvellous, isn’t it? And d’you know, Poppy, at my age, and at my stage in life,
I really didn’t think I’d be worrying about this sort of thing. Thought I’d be planning little dinner parties, titivating
the garden. Didn’t think I’d be working the singles market. There’s Clarissa at school with boyfriend trouble, crying down
the phone about some boy she likes who’s gone off with a friend of hers, and I’m too busy with my own disastrous love life
to even sympathize. Too busy being rebuffed myself. Pitiful, isn’t it?’

This didn’t seem to demand an answer. But it occurred to me that I too had been rebuffed by Sam, when I’d asked him if he
read, mentioned the book club. Charmingly brushed aside. So charmingly I might even have been in danger of not noticing: of
repeating the error, going back for more, if the hunt had gone otherwise. If, say, Thumper had behaved perfectly, might I
not have found myself back at Sam’s place with Angie for tea, outstaying all the other riders, elbowing her out of the way
over the whisky bottle, nicking the rose from her teeth, asking him to accompany
me
not her, to the hunt ball, while she staggered to the loo to reapply her lippy? One of two very pissed and very desperate
women? I shuddered. Glanced furtively at the clock. Thank God I had a date tonight. A proper one. If only I was allowed to
go on the bloody thing. I had a feeling it might not be tactful to mention it under the circumstances, but the fact remained
that Luke was probably even now laying the table and polishing the glasses. Meanwhile my fringe was curling horribly and in
precisely ten minutes Peggy – who I’d asked instead of Luke’s sister – would be here and I wasn’t even dressed.
The laundry basket was under the table and I riffled in it. Grabbed some pants and pulled them on surreptitiously under my
dressing gown.

Angie narrowed her eyes, suspicious. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere, why?’

‘You’ve just put frilly pants on.’

‘Oh. I’m … just having supper with Luke, that’s all.’

‘Ooh,’ she said archly, and I had a nasty feeling the combination of baring her soul and a bottle of wine might drive her
to lash out.

I braced myself, but we do, after all, choose our friends wisely and Angie had a kind heart. Her face softened.

‘Good. I’m really pleased. He’s a sweet boy.’

I relaxed, although rather wished she hadn’t added the last bit.

‘Excellent. Well, I’m glad you approve,’ I said, rallying. Wishing too for just a spot of privacy, for not living in a village
where everyone knew my business. ‘And now if you wouldn’t mind buggering off, Angie,’ I said pleasantly, ‘perhaps I could
get dressed as well? Not just leave it at knickers?’

She raised a smile and got to her feet, swinging her Chanel bag over her shoulder, simultaneously draining her glass.

‘Where’s he taking you?’

‘He’s, um … cooking me supper.’

Her eyes came round from her empty glass, wide and delighted. ‘Is he now? Ooh, Poppy, how exciting! No wonder you’ve got your
frillies on. Are you sure you’ll need them at all?’ She threw back her head and cackled loudly.

I regarded her narrowly. ‘Thanks for that, Angie.’

‘My pleasure,’ she grinned, clearly enjoying herself now, morale somewhat restored. ‘Well, I hope it goes well. You’re
so suited to each other, everyone says so. You should have got it together from the word go, which is exactly what I told
him after I found him in the garden with Saintly Sue, that night at the book club.’

‘Did you now,’ I muttered. How pissed was she? Did she have to bring that up? ‘What else did you tell him?’ I asked as I hustled
her towards the front door. Damn. I could hear Archie crying upstairs. I’d have to give him a bottle and Peggy would be here
to sit soon. I hadn’t even dried my hair.

‘Oh, nothing else,’ she twinkled merrily, jingling her car keys – Angie lived five minutes’ walk away but always drove. ‘Although
he was so sweetly concerned about how you were going to manage on your own as an impoverished widow, et cetera, that I did
set his mind at rest on that score. Toodle-oo, Poppy! Have a lovely evening.’

And with that she sashayed out of the front door, hips swaying, and down the path to her car.

I stared at the door as it shut behind her. Remained motionless a moment, engrossed, it seemed, in the paintwork. Then I went
into the sitting room, crossing to the window to watch as her car drew away from the kerb, headlights going on against the
gathering darkness, faint drizzle sparkling in their beam. Across the road the Fishs’ light went on too, briefly illuminating
their front room, before their curtain swished shut. Archie was still crying, his wails gaining momentum upstairs, but I seemed
transfixed by the spot Angie’s car had just vacated in the road. Eventually I turned and went mechanically to the fridge for
a bottle of milk; warmed it in the microwave. Well, it had probably been a slip of the tongue. And taken out of context too.
I didn’t know the full extent of the conversation. I’d give her a ring in a moment, when I’d given Archie his bottle. When
she’d had time to get home and put the car away. I could hear her voice on the phone now: ‘Oh
no
, Poppy, he was just genuinely concerned about
you
, about how you were going to cope, that’s all! After all, he is in finance and he probably wondered if you needed advice.’
Yes, that would be it.