The Back Road (6 page)

9

As Fiona Atkinson walked down the wide staircase of her detached Edwardian home, she caught a glimpse of herself in the huge mirror by the door to the dining room. The brilliant blue of her dress with splashes of emerald green looked wonderful against her tan, and the hem of its handkerchief skirt rose from mid calf to mid thigh in places to give glimpses of her toned legs. Every inch of her body was honed to perfection, and her short blonde hair was gleaming. Marco had done a wonderful job with her highlights as usual. Her only concern was her shoes. She was sure that Ellie would expect them all to wander round the garden, and there was no way that these heels were leaving the safety of the house.

All eyes would definitely be on her, and that was just what she wanted. One pair especially, if he was there. She hadn’t wanted to ask, though. It wouldn’t do to seem too keen.

‘Right Charles, I’m ready,’ Fiona announced as she swept into the room in a cloud of Hermes’ 24 Faubourg perfume. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, posing with one hand on her hip.

Charles was standing by the window, looking out at their immaculately maintained garden with a glass of something colourless in his hand. She knew it wouldn’t be water. Dressed in a navy blue pinstriped suit and red tie that were entirely inappropriate to the occasion, Charles turned to look at her. His brown hair was slicked back from a wide forehead, and his dark bushy eyebrows almost met over a pair of small, brown eyes, giving him the air of somebody who was constantly perplexed.

He lifted his glass to his lips, and then lowered it and spoke in his usual measured tones.

‘Is that the Ferragamo you told me about?’

Fiona did a small twirl.

‘It is. Divine, isn’t it?’

Charles frowned.

‘Are you seriously wearing that? To go to Ellie and Max’s? A bit OTT, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Well, clearly I wouldn’t say or I wouldn’t be wearing it. What’s your problem?’

‘I would have thought that something a tad less ostentatious would be more appropriate, given the company we’ll be keeping.’

Fiona rolled her eyes.

‘Stop being such a snob, Charles. Ellie and Max are loaded now - they are among the wealthy, so no need to turn your nose up like that.’

He walked over to the drinks table and put his glass down.

‘Well, they might have money now, but who else will be there? Not people who would appreciate Ferragamo, I should imagine.’

Fiona could never admit to Charles that each designer dress, each piece of exquisite jewellery, was a symbol to her of how far she had come and how completely she had left her past behind.

‘It might surprise you to learn, Charles, that I don’t dress to suit anybody else. I dress to suit myself.’ She followed him across the room. ‘As far as other people invited tonight, Patrick will be there with his new woman, no doubt, and Ellie said there’d be a few others, but I’m not entirely sure who.’

Fiona glanced down to pluck a non-existent hair off her dress as she spoke, avoiding Charles’ eyes. Despite the distance between them, sometimes she was amazed at how well he could read her. He gave a soft snort of disgust.

‘Patrick and his new woman just about sum it up. He’s an idiot for leaving that rather splendid Georgia - what on earth possessed the man? What’s she like anyway, this new woman?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t met her. She’s called Miriam but apparently prefers to be called Mimi.’

‘Oh God,’ muttered Charles.

‘Ellie says she’s like a wet blanket, and Pat’s as miserable as sin.’ Fiona glared at Charles. ‘Am I getting a drink tonight, or do I have to get my own?’

‘Sorry, darling. What would you like?’

Fiona shook her head in irritation.

‘I’ll have what I always have, Charles. You ask me that every weekend, and my answer for the past five years has always been the same. A vodka martini no olive, sliver of lemon peel. And did you sort out a taxi?’

Charles busied himself at the drinks table, measuring a precise amount of vodka into a crystal glass as he spoke.

‘Well, I sorted out a car. I booked Jessops and asked them to send a Mercedes. They’re picking us up early, as you requested - about fifteen minutes from now, and I’ve ordered them to collect us at eleven.’

‘You have
not
. Honestly, sometimes you’re unbelievable.
Eleven
? We can’t leave at eleven - how old are you really, Charles?’ And what do we have to get back to, anyway? She couldn’t help thinking.

Fiona took a sip of her drink. Whatever his faults, Charles certainly knew how to mix the perfect martini. Perhaps his ability to reproduce perfection time after time was down to his obsession with precision. He couldn’t bear to go anywhere without a plan - how long to get there in order to arrive at the optimum moment; how long for each course; what would be the perfect time to make a dignified exit. He would constantly be checking his watch to make sure things were working to his schedule. But there was no way that she was going to be the first to leave tonight. She was going to milk this evening for all that she could. She was going to be the star, and wanted every man’s eyes to be on her. Charles was
not
going to ruin it for her.

Fiona walked across to the mirror over the sideboard, and moved a wonderful display of summer flowers out of the way so that she could see herself better. She was pleased with what she saw.

‘Well, darling, you can leave at eleven if you like, but I will be staying. I’ll try not to wake you when I get in. I’ll call a taxi.’

Fiona contemplated the evening ahead. Perhaps tonight should be decision time. She had nearly relented the night before, but had decided the game could last a little longer. Maybe it was finally time to stop playing.

The gleam of anticipation in her eyes was reflected back at her, and even through the carefully applied makeup she could just make out a hint of a flush to her cheeks.

She sensed movement behind her, and saw Charles watching her in the mirror. She quickly glanced away.

10

To Leo’s surprise, the kitchen was empty when she had finally finished straightening her hair. She was relieved. She had no intention of sharing with Ellie the memories that had been flooding her mind, but she wasn’t sure how much her face would reveal.

She hadn’t brought anything smart with her, but had a figure hugging black vest and some white jeans that she thought would be fine if she dressed them up with a bit of colourful jewellery. She’d been going to raid Ellie’s bedroom to see if she could dig out a dark red chunky necklace that she had bought her a year or two ago. It would go well with her lipstick. But given the earlier episode, maybe she should ask first.

She looked around the kitchen, which was amazingly well organised considering there were ten of them for dinner. But then it was a vast kitchen and nothing like the pokey little hole of a room they’d had when Leo and Ellie were growing up. Now there was the most enormous black Aga that she had ever seen down one side of the room. As if that weren’t enough, there were two separate built-in ovens along one stretch of wall, and a six burner hob with a separate griddle plate in a central island that was in itself probably bigger than the former kitchen.

On the other side of the island was a table to seat six, and over by the folding glass doors to the garden were a couple of comfortable looking armchairs. As she had discovered the night before, the kitchen took up half of the downstairs of the barn, with Max’s playroom - as Ellie liked to call it - next door. She had only poked her nose in there, but the television screen covered most of the wall, and there were twelve recliners for added comfort. Completely over the top, of course, but then Ellie would have wanted to make sure Max had something that made moving here worthwhile. He had been perfectly happy in their modern semi.

From the kitchen, a spiral staircase led to the first floor, where there was a full sized snooker table and various other boys’ toys that Leo wasn’t even slightly interested in. With all this, it was strange that both Max and Ellie were the most spiky that Leo had ever seen them in their nine years of marriage.

She wasn’t the world’s greatest cook herself, but Leo was just beginning to feel a bit of a spare part hanging around the kitchen and doing nothing when Ellie finally made an appearance, looking a bit more chirpy than she had an hour ago. Max had obviously worked his magic, and Leo was glad that her sister seemed more like her usual self. Her long dark hair was waving around her face, and the low-cut neck of her short black dress showed a cleavage that Leo was insanely jealous of. Ellie never overdid the makeup, but tonight she wore a touch of lip gloss on her generous mouth, and her eyes were emphasised by a subtle hint of grey shadow.

Ellie smiled, as if to atone for her previous grumpiness. ‘Leo - you look lovely. As always.’

‘I don’t - but thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything smart. You look terrific, though. Are your guests likely to be ultra stylish tonight, do you think?’

Ellie was busying herself putting various dips into bowls for the canapés, but she stopped for a moment and looked at Leo apologetically.

‘Well, Fiona and Charles are coming - so I guess Fiona will be in some posh frock or other.’

‘Oh God help us. She’s become such a snooty bugger. Does she still wear polo shirts with the collar artfully turned up at the back as part of her “casual look”?’

Ellie grinned, but declined to comment.

‘And I’ve never worked out why she married that plonker Charles? She didn’t exactly choose him because he was sex on legs, did she? I know she was your friend at school, but I can’t believe you have a single thing in common with her now.’

Ellie gave her sister a tolerant smile.

‘She’s not always had it easy, you know. Put your face straight, Leo. There are things about Fiona that you don’t know and I can’t tell you - but half of her performance is an act. Be a bit more forgiving of people.’

‘Ellie, you are the softest touch in the world. Always have been; always will be. I, on the other hand, do not suffer fools gladly - although tonight, as they’re your friends, I’ll be on my best behaviour. So is there anybody else that I know?’

Leo walked over to the massive fridge as she spoke and found an open bottle of white wine. She waved it in the air, and Ellie nodded as she carried on with her work.

‘Well, Pat’s coming - you know him.’

Leo pulled some glasses from a cupboard, and with her back to Ellie gave her verdict on the next pair of guests.

‘Excellent - that’s good news. Not about Pat. He’s a nice guy but a bit limp, if you know what I mean. But Georgia’s great. Tough cookie and a straight talker. Thank goodness for that. I can resist taking the piss out of Fiona and do some bitching with Georgia.’

She turned round with a big smile on her face, only to be greeted by Ellie’s look of dismay. One hand to her mouth, she muttered through her fingers.

‘Oh Christ. You don’t know, do you? Sorry Leo, I meant to tell you but it kept slipping my mind.’

Leo passed her sister the glass of wine, and watched her take a rather long drink. She said nothing and waited until Ellie was ready to talk.

‘Pat’s left Georgia. Well - Georgia kicked him out, to be accurate. And she’s my best friend so I’m on her side all the way, except that Pat is
Max’s
best friend, so it’s all a bit difficult.’

Leo said nothing, knowing that her sister would fill the silence without her having to ask the obvious questions.

‘It was so awful. It all started because Pat wanted babies. You know what he’s been like with Georgia over the years. He idolised her, and as she rose up through the ranks at work he did everything for her. They both put her career first, on the basis that a corporate lawyer makes considerably more than a school teacher. He could have looked anywhere in the country for a promotion, but she wouldn’t budge. And when Pat said he wanted to have kids, she said no. He said he would stay at home and look after them, she didn’t even have to give up her job. But she still said no.’

Ellie put her wine glass down and glanced at the time, obviously wanting to get this story over before anybody arrived.

‘Pat had an affair. There’s a pub that they all go to when there’s been a late meeting or whatever at school. She was a barmaid there. Max said that he should have seen it coming because he saw Pat spending a lot of time with her, but it never occurred to him. Now he thinks it was desperation on Pat’s part. He felt… I don’t know how to put it;
unnecessary
would be the best description, I think. This girl made him feel important. Anyway, Georgia found out. We don’t know exactly what happened, but apparently she received an anonymous text message. She kicked Pat out. I think she thought that he would come round to us and we’d talk some sense into him. But we were away for the weekend, and so he did the daftest thing. He went round to the other woman’s house, and that was it as far as Georgia was concerned.’

Leo raised her eyebrows. Ellie frowned at her.

‘You don’t look very surprised. I would never have thought in a million years that they would split. They were devoted to each other. I thought you’d be astonished.’

‘Come on, Ellie,’ Leo said. ‘This is me you’re talking to. When did I ever have expectations of any man? So Pat has gone the way of them all. Shock, gulp, horror.’

Leo held out the hand clasping her wine glass towards Ellie as if she were pointing with it.

‘Georgia’s better off on her own.’

Ellie shook her head.

‘She’s not, you know. She’s as miserable as sin. Pat is too, but he won’t admit it. Max says he’s been like death warmed up at school for the last few weeks. At least now it’s the summer holidays he might use the break to get a grip, although apparently he disappeared from the rugby club last night part way through the evening. Well, at least that’s what Max says, although how the hell he would know given the state he was in when he got home, I don’t know.’

Leo couldn’t help thinking that Pat wasn’t the only one who had disappeared last night – something that she still hadn’t got to the bottom of.

* * *

Mimi’s sitting room had to be one of the most depressing rooms Patrick Keever had ever seen. He didn’t mind that it was small. Small could be cosy. But it was devoid of… well, anything really. The only thing that lent any colour to the room was the hideous swirly patterned carpet, and only then if orange was your thing. Other than that, it was a beige on beige effect. He longed for the pale sage green of his own sitting room carpet, with the soft, chocolate leather sofas, the open fireplace and the black and white photos that he had taken himself, and spent so long framing and hanging.

Of course, he had nobody else to blame for how things were at the moment, but try as he might he couldn’t seem to work out what to do. Georgia said she still loved him, but whenever he offered to leave Mimi and move back - which he would do in a flash - she narrowed her eyes and shook her head, looking at him as if he were mad. He appeared to be missing something, but Georgia wasn’t offering any clues.

And now he was going to Max and Ellie’s for dinner with the woman who had - to all intents and purposes - replaced Georgia in his life. It was hard for his friends, and he understood that. He and Max had been close since university - chalk and cheese, Georgia had always called them. Max the sporty, fun loving guy who made everybody laugh, and Pat the serious, studious type who loved the theatre and the arts. But somehow they had clicked.

He looked at his watch. ‘Mimi, are you nearly ready? We should be going,’ he shouted up the stairs. You didn’t have to shout too loudly in this room though, or the neighbours would be knocking on the thin walls that divided the houses.

Mimi didn’t answer, and he wasn’t going to call again. He didn’t want to go at all, if truth be told. But if they were going, and they ought to, he would rather arrive on time or a little early. He didn’t want to walk into a room crowded with people. He always got the sense nowadays that people were talking about him. He’d had enough of that the night before at the end of term party. He had been so glad to escape - although in view of what had happened later perhaps he would have been better staying where he was. He hoped nobody had noticed his disappearing act because if they had, he would have a lot of explaining to do.

Pat was dreading the next few weeks. School holidays. As a teacher, he would normally look forward to this time, loving the sense that he had space in which to think about the following term, and to give some thought to his lesson planning. In previous years he’d had the house to himself for most of the holiday weeks while Georgia was at work, and he could read, make notes, listen to music and generally prepare himself mentally for the academic year ahead. But this year he would be here, in this dump, with Mimi around far too much of the time for his liking.

His musings came to an abrupt end as he heard Mimi’s heels clattering down the open tread wooden staircase. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, resting her hand on the newel post, and looked at Pat.

‘Will I do?’ she asked.

Pat couldn’t quite work out the expression on her face, but it seemed to be a mixture of defiance and nerves. He felt a hard lump of guilt in his chest. He had to stop making comparisons, but her black dress was not a good length for her, falling just below her knees. In spite of the fact that it was the middle of summer, she was wearing a fuchsia pink cardigan with ruffles round the neck that didn’t complement her skin tone, but he could see that she had made an effort.

‘You look very nice,’ he responded. He knew it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, but this was all he was capable of. He’d been so attracted to her in the early days, but he had just wanted somebody to listen to him and see things from his perspective. She had stood on the other side of the bar in their local, and agreed with everything he’d said; told him what a catch he was and how Georgia must be mad to do anything to upset him. Mimi had said everything that he had wanted to hear, so when - after a particularly bad row with Georgia - she had invited him back here for a glass of wine and a place to calm down, he had broken down completely. And that had been his undoing. She had knelt on the floor at his feet and tried to kiss away his tears, and he couldn’t bring himself to push her away. God, he was such a cliché. As a student of English he had read enough to know the potential impact of grief on desire, and as they had ripped at each other’s clothes in a frenzy of lust, he had felt himself drowning in a maelstrom of churning emotions.

And so, here they were.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

‘I suppose so. Do we
have
to go, Patrick? Can’t we make an excuse? I’d rather be here with you - just the two of us. They wouldn’t mind - Ellie doesn’t even
like
me.’

Pat suppressed a sigh. ‘Yes, we do have to go. Or at least, I do. Stay here, if you prefer.’ He stifled the feeling of hope that she would agree.

‘Of course not. I know it’s been difficult with your friends, but you’re with me now, and they’re going to have to accept it.’

‘Give them time, Mimi - please? Just be nice, and they’ll come round, I promise.’ He could see that was the wrong thing to say.

‘I’m
always
nice to them. But they think they’re better than us because they’ve got lots of money. He’s only a teacher, and she’s a nurse so I don’t get why they think they’re special.’

‘Just to remind you that I, too, am only a teacher - and they don’t think they’re special. They’re not like that at all. Ellie is the kindest woman I’ve ever met.’

Mimi walked towards him and grasped his upper arms. ‘You’re a deputy head, Patrick. That’s not
only
a teacher at all. And you
are
special.’ She leant towards him and kissed him on the mouth, her lips tasting of toothpaste and mouthwash.

Extracting himself gently, he grasped her hands. ‘Come on. We’ll be late. It’s about a ten minute walk, so that will be good timing.’

Pat forced a smile on his face, checked his mobile phone was in his pocket, and steered Mimi towards the front door.