Love Is a Four Letter Word (27 page)

There was a promising clinking as Gerald delved into a cupboard. ‘Say you'll join me in a Scotch. Or would you prefer gin and tonic? Bourbon?'

‘Just a small Scotch, then. Thank you.'

‘This is a beautiful room, Mrs Kreuzer.' Will crossed to the corner cabinet. ‘Is this eighteenth-century?'

‘It is. I do hope Bella hasn't schooled you to be so formal, William—'

‘Will,'
said Bella.

‘– Gerald and I are very easy come, easy go, aren't we darling?'

‘Hmm?' said Gerald.

‘Please do call me …' she took a breath as if about to launch into an aria, ‘… Alessandra.'

To Bella's surprise, they were shown to the guest bedroom, rather than being segregated.

‘I dare say you'll want to
share,
will you?' Alessandra said, giving a little, indulgent laugh, making it sound like a perversion.

‘It is pretty normal for people in their thirties.'

‘I daresay it is, Bella-dear.' Alessandra closed the
curtains and moved a vase of spiny sea holly slightly. ‘I'm sure I'm hopelessly out of touch.' She straightened the guest towels by the washbasin. ‘Towels. Soap. Yes. Wait until you have children and they start telling you off every time you open your mouth.'

Bella started to unpack her holdall.

‘I'm
not
telling you off,' she said at her washbag. ‘I'm just
saying –
it'd be abnormal if we slept in separate rooms at our age.'

‘Well there's no problem then, is there?' Alessandra paused by the door. ‘You're not in separate rooms.' She smiled at Will. ‘Do just say if you need more towels.' The door closed behind her.

‘For God's sake! I
daresay it is Bella-dear.
And
more
towels!' Bella thumped a plumpfy pile of them laid on a chair. ‘Whatever for? What
does
she think we'd be doing in here? Having babies? Covering ourselves in maple syrup? What?'

‘Oh, keep calm.' Will looped his arms around her. ‘Now, about this maple syrup …'

‘I can see where Bella gets her culinary finesse from,' Will said at supper, grinning as if he'd had a whole bowlful of manna. ‘This is superb.'

Bella mouthed ‘Crawler' at him.

Back in their room, Will sat on the bed and asked Bella what was the matter.

‘I can see where Bella gets her culinary
finesse
from,' she parroted. ‘Culinary finesse? Whatever happened to good old cooking skills, Mr Lover-of-Plain-English?'

‘Why are you having a go at me? I'm not your mother.'

‘Very funny. I'm not, anyway.'

‘Yes you are. I thought you wanted me to praise her cooking. That's what it said in the manual: Bella's Parents – A Visitor's Guide.'

She could see the corners of his mouth curving, expecting her to laugh with him.

‘It didn't say be a slimy, goody-goody, suck-up sycophant, did it?'

‘Oh, charming. I love you too.'

‘I just think it would be appropriate if you were to show me some support while you're here.'

‘Appropriate? What? I'm not
not
showing you support by being nice to your mum. It's a common custom when you're a guest. It's called Getting On with People. You should try it sometime.'

‘Ssh! Will you keep your voice down. And I don't Get On with People, I suppose?'

‘Well, you could try the revolutionary new tactic of being pleasant to your mother. It wouldn't kill you, would it?'

Bella fiddled with the stiff latch and opened the window.

‘I knew you wouldn't see what she's really like.'

He crossed to her and put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.

‘I can see that she's awkward with you. Not relaxed. I've no idea why. But you're making it worse, can't you see that? She looks nervous around you, almost as if she thinks you might hit her.'

‘Her
nervous around
me.
Hah!'

Will nodded, serious.

‘Yes, that's how it looks. Like you've both got stuck in some stupid – deadlock. Why don't you make the first move, like Helen said?'

‘Why should I? She's the mother, that's her job.'

‘Excuse me? Hello? “Sir, sir, she pushed me first” – that's certainly going to get you good results.'

‘I do try actually.' Bella folded her arms, holding herself. ‘You've got no idea. You don't know anything about it.'

‘Yes, well, I wouldn't, would I?' His voice became
brisk. ‘Because you haven't told me. If something's difficult, painful, you don't talk about it. You just turn away or change the subject or make it into a joke – that's your solution to everything. Except it hasn't actually
solved
anything, has it?'

Bella wanted to speak, to protest, retaliate. But she couldn't swallow. She tried to concentrate on moving the muscles in her windpipe so she could take in some air.

‘No,' Will continued. ‘But then what would I know? I'm just an outsider. I guess it's none of my bloody business.' If she had turned from the window, she would have seen that he looked suddenly smaller, somehow defeated.

‘Guess not,' she said, staring straight ahead. ‘So it's really not your worry.'

She heard him let out a breath as if his whole body were sighing, then the quiet click as he closed the door behind him. She stayed completely still, seeing herself as if she were in one of her own paintings, leaning on the window ledge, looking out to the garden in a dream.

∼ ∼ ∼

Through the bars in the back of the bench, she watches them sitting over there under the almond tree. From where she lies, here in the long grass, pressing herself close to the ground, she can see stripes of people through the bench – neat segments at once unfamiliar yet recognizable: Daddy's Sunday jacket, green and scratchy like dried-out moss; Mrs Mellors's ‘strawberry-blonde' hair, not like strawberries at all (‘It's not
dyed –
just a rinse to bring out my natural highlights'). Patterns of sound reach her, shifts in tone and pitch going up and down like the temperature chart she did at school, as each grown-up speaks.
Then, out of the pattern, words suddenly take on shape, sharp and clear in the sunlight.

‘– finds it hard to mix with other …' says her mother. ‘… really very …'

‘… more of an effort?' says Mrs Mellors.

Then Daddy's voice, low and gentle, tantalizingly beyond grasp. Suddenly, a loud ‘Ssh!' and silence. She flattens her face into the smell of greenness, but it is too late.

‘Bella!' Her mother's voice, careful and distinct. ‘We didn't see you there, darling. Don't skulk in that damp grass. Come and say hello to Mrs Mellors.' Bella gets up and rubs her grassy knees hard with the heel of her hand, tucks her hair back behind her ears.

‘There's
panettone,'
adds her mother, briskly brushing bits of grass from Bella's front, ‘for good little girls who come and sit down nicely.'

∼ ∼ ∼

By Sunday lunch-time, Alessandra was patting Will's arm and laughing at everything he said. Gerald took him on a tour of the garden and pronounced him ‘a breath of fresh air and robust enough to stand up to Bella'. He laughed when he said it, so Bella was sure he must have been joking. Will found Bella in the sitting-room after lunch, curled up in an armchair reading a book. Was she coming to join them, he asked; there was fresh coffee.

‘No thanks.'

‘Would Madam like a cup brought through before the staff go off duty?' He smiled and leant down to see her face.

‘I'm fine, thanks.'

‘What's up?'

‘Nothing. I'm reading.'

‘Rightio. You're reading. Of course. We trail miles across country so that you can introduce me to your parents then you spend the entire time skulking in corners like some snotty adolescent. Do you always visit people then ignore them when you get there?'

Bella continued to stare at her book.

‘I think it's very rude. To me as well as your parents. I'm here only because of you but you've practically abandoned me.'

‘You seem to be managing very well without me.'

‘I'm trying to be sociable enough for two people to compensate for you.'

‘Please don't bother on my account. They're used to it. I'm “difficult” apparently – surely my mother mentioned it?'

‘Come on. Will you please at least look at me?'

Bella raised her eyes from the page. They were like glass.

‘I hate it when you do that.'

She raised her eyebrows and remained silent.

‘Aren't you going to ask me what?'

‘I daresay you'll tell me anyway.'

‘God, you can be infuriating.' He shoved his hands down deep into his pockets. ‘I hate it when you shut me out like that. Go all icy. I don't know how to get through it.'

‘Better not waste your energy then.'

‘What is all this? What's the matter?' Will moved towards her and laid a hand on her hair.

‘Don't do that. Flattens it.' She flicked her head.

His hand dropped back to his side.

‘Come through when you're planning to rejoin the human race, why don't you?'

Bella deposited a single kiss on Alessandra's right cheek and promptly stepped backwards, stranding her mid-ritual. Alessandra hovered, then tugged at her silk cardigan draped over her shoulders and crossed her arms. A hug and kiss for Gerald, then Bella squatted to clasp Hund in a warm embrace. She heard Will kissing Alessandra and her light laugh, heard Gerald clapping Will affectionately on the back. She kissed the top of Hund's head again and showered him with extra pats.

‘You must come and see us again, dear Will. Don't wait for Bella to bring you – we'll be quite old and grey by then!' Alessandra laughed.

Will got into the front passenger seat and balanced a tin of home-made biscuits on his lap. A jar of cherries macerated in brandy was wedged between his feet.

‘Enough going-home presents there, have you,
dear
Will?' Bella turned the car and gave a cursory wave out the window, a perfunctory goodbye toot of the horn.

‘I thought it was very kind of her. She was only trying to make me feel welcome.'

‘Welcome? She practically offered to adopt you. I'm surprised she didn't just swap me for you, old for new: “Don't throw that old, unlovable child away. Trade it in for an easier, more adorable one.
^”'

‘I've told you a million times, don't exaggerate.'

‘Is that the best you can do? Time to splash out and invest in a few new jokes, I think.'

‘You
are
angry, aren't you?'

‘As you well know, nothing is more guaranteed to make a perfectly calm person angry than telling them they're angry. You're so – so
fucking
smug sometimes.'

‘I'm afraid you've lost me. I really don't understand why you're so upset.'

‘Don't you? Don't you really? You've just spent all weekend forming a cosy little mutual fan club with my parents, especially my mother, and you've no idea why that would upset me?'

‘Not really, no. Well, I could hazard a guess.'

‘And what would that be, Mr Smug?'

‘Cut it out. Don't push it, Bella.'

‘Bella. Oh, you do know my name then? But only when you're telling me off? The rest of the time it's “sweet pea” or “pumpkin” or some other type of vegetable matter.'

Will was silent for a minute.

‘That's just me being affectionate, you know it is. Why didn't you say if it annoyed you? I thought you liked it.'

I do like it.
She felt as if she were at the bottom of a
pit and could see no way to scale the walls; what could she do but dig deeper?

She exhaled shortly through her nose. Will ignored it.

‘I think you're pissed off because I got on OK with your mum and that's blown your guiding theory of life out of the water – that she's the Wicked Witch of the West and you're sweet little Dorothy.'

Bella raised one eyebrow.

‘Oh, the famous Kreuzer look. I
am
scared. I think you'd actually rather be right than happy, wouldn't you?'

‘That does sound likely, doesn't it?'

‘OK. Why are you so upset then?'

‘I'm not “upset” – I might be justifiably pissed off that you smarmed up to
Alessandra,'
her voice quivered dramatically. ‘So that I was made to look like the bad one, a naughty misfit schoolkid.'

‘You were acting like a stroppy brat, so what do you expect?'

‘I really fail to see the point of this conversation.'

Will rested his hand on her leg.

‘C'mon, you.' He moved her leg to and fro playfully. ‘Let's not fight, eh?'

Bella reached to change gear and nudged his hand away.

‘'Scuse me. Could you …? Thanks.'

He withdrew it and clucked a quiet rhythm to himself for a minute, then he turned to look out of the window.

The rest of the journey passed in near-silence.

Will pulled out a tape.

‘OK if we have some music?'

‘Mmm-mm.'

‘I'll take that as a yes then, as you would say.'

He hummed along without enthusiasm.

‘Got a busy day tomorrow,' he said.

‘Hmm?'

‘Yes, indeedy. Busy day. Busy, busy day.'

‘Oh, right.'

Will turned to look out of the window once more.

Bella stopped the car outside Will's house and kept the engine running while he unloaded his bag from the boot.

‘Well then,' she said.

‘Bella? Could you park the car and come in for a minute?'

‘I'm really tired.'

‘Aren't we all? Just for a minute. I want to talk to you.'