Venus Envy (35 page)

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‘Come on,’ Keisha said, ‘let’s go out and get hammered.’

After I’d locked up my room (or who knew what revenge Gail would come up with) we sodded off to the Rat & Parrot in Camden and ordered six Moscow Mules.

‘How stupid, thinking you wanted Tom,’ Keisha said comfortably. ‘You can’t stand him. Frankly, he must be nuts about Gail, if he actually came round to buy something of yours.’

‘Maybe he did want to see me,’ I suggested faintly, because the booze gave me courage. ‘Maybe he wants to bury the hatchet.’

, Keisha laughed and went to put on Mary J. Blige. When she came back, she asked, ‘In your back or in your head?’

‘What do you mean? He can’t still be furious.’ ‘You know about the money, right?’

At my blank look, Keisha raised an eyebrow. ‘God, didn.’t Gail tell you? The reason Snowy hasn’t come back here? Tom found her and paid her off. He told her if they did marry, his brother would divorce her if he found out the truth, and to stop the scandal, he gave her money to luck off abroad for six months. Charlie was gutted, really ashamed. He grovelled to Ellen, quiet registry-office wedding, happily ever after. Part of the deal was that Snowy moves out of her flat. We wondered about that, but now I see it was to protect Gail.’

The drink wasn’t slipping down quite so easily now. ‘How much money?’ I asked.

‘It’s s’posed to be a secret,’ Keisha slurred, ‘Gail only found out ‘cause she went through his letters.’

I’d gone icy cold. ‘How much money?’ I asked. ‘Three quarters of a million,’ said Keisha.

Oh my God. Three quarters of a million! Three

3oz

quarters of a million? As in seven hundred and fifty thousand quid?

‘Alex, why are you breathing like that? Alex, stop gasping! Excuse me, c’n we have some water here, please?’

The cab roared home through the drunken streets of North London. God, Friday nights here is like rush hour at Piccadilly Circus, with the ravers and all the Japanese tourists walking eagerly round with their shiny plastic backpacks, eyes peeled for a Gallagher brother.

I shut my eyes and tried to stop the world spinning. Tom had spent that much money, and he was still seeing Gail? It’s not my fault, it’s not, I thought desperately. I mean, I wasn’t a prostitute, I wasn’t responsible for Snowy …

But I kind of was. I’d brought her along - or that’s how it looked - and I’d done nothing to stop it. Tom had money, we all knew that, but still, it must have been a huge chunk of his net worth.

And he hadn’t tried to make me feel bad about it. He hadn’t said a word. If Gail hadn’t been snooping round his place we still wouldn’t know now.

His behaviour made me feel absolutely light with love. It was so brotherly, so generous. And the fact that I’d been the worst guest in the history of guestdom,’and he still hadn’t dropped even the smallest hint - Tom was so gallant.

I flashed on .him driving a tank he way he’d driven the car back from Gloucestershire. I saw horribly attractive images of him as an officer, in uniform, whenever I closed my eyes. The thought that he could knock Seamus over just by breathing on him refused to go away.

I’d always wanted a lefty, sensitive, poetic type -

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how come I had fallen for this macho, upper-class slab of beefcake?

And now Gail was going to marry him and turn his lovely old home into a postmodern airport hangar. It was a good job she couldn’t clamber into my head, I thought, I’d never see another birthday.

When we arrived home there was a note propped up on the kitchen table. Keisha poked her head into Gail’s room and saw that her wardrobe w-as empty, the fluffy teddies had vacated the building.

‘She’s gone, she’s gone,’ Keisha said, clapping her hands with glee, ‘excellent, it should be on Ricki Lake.’ I ripped open the note.

‘You darned cow -‘ darned cow? Fucking bitch was more her style, maybe she thought I would show it to Tom, and she didn’t want to leave any evidence of herself as a Woman Who Swears - ‘how could you do that to my lovely present from Tommy? Just because you are a pathetic old maid, you want to ruin all couples’ happiness, well, it won’t work with me. I have moved out and am going to live with Tommy.’

‘I wonder if Tommykins knows about that,’ Keisha giggled. ‘I hope he isn’t in bed with some serving wench when Gail arrives with her suitcase.’

I thought of Gail, tiny shoulders shaking in faked distress, turning up at Tom’s with a toothbrush and a plea to stay the night, and a plan never to move out. Tom would be delighted to see her, and I had given her a perfect excuse.

Then I thought of something worse. I saw Gall weeping girlishly on Tom’s manky shoulder about what a bitch I was, and Tom kissing her tears dry, and scooping her up in his arms and taking her to the bedroom.

‘I don’t think there’s much chance of that,’ I said, trying not to show Keisha that my hands were shaking. I put down the trembling slip of paper.

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‘Well done, Alex, you win the Flatmate of the Year award,’ Keisha announced drunkenly. ‘No more Gail, and at least you won’t have to put on that dog-and pony show for Tom any more.’

I turned up at Younger’s the next morning and savagely cleaned the place. Boy, if there were any happy dust mites in our shop they’d had their chips that morning, I can tell you. Then I went into the back and started to throw a new sculpture.

The clay turned this way and that under my fingers, moving so fast it seemed to be liquid, not solid. Long, wonderfully turned legs with tiny calves appeared out of the grey; an A-line skirt, a hip thrown forwards.

My obsession was giving wings to my fingers and thumbs. I was sculpting my sister. Gail emerged out of the slab,.hazy, then better defined, as I pulled and cut and tugged and sliced, her oval face, her gleaming hair (I spritzed varnish on to .catch the light). Gordon wasn’t in, and with no one to interrupt me, I worked solidly all morning, even missing the eleven o’clock chocolate break. The phone rang a few times, and I steeled myself to hear Tom say he wasn’t coming, but it was only Lady Tim Haydn and Mrs Ponsonby, two of my stupider customers, promising their attendance on Sunday.

About two Gail was finished. I looked dumbly at what I had done; my sister to the life, leaning against a tabletop, the delicate features and snub nose smiling tauntingly, up at me. It might have been the best thing I’d ever sculpted.

I burst into tears. Wretched, massive sobs, the kind that make your chest heave and your eyes and nose run like Linford Christie. I couldn’t stop crying, for about ten minutes I just cried and cried, until my hanky got so sodden I had to throw it away. I tried to pull myself together and start making calls to the caterers, but I

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just couldn’t. Eventually I crawled out to the loos and wiped my streaming eyes and blew my nose, and if the 1oo had had Gail’s scarf wrapped around the 1oo roll I would happily have used it about a million times.

Someone was ringing the little brass bell at the front of the store. I blew my nose again and hoped they’d go away, but they didn’t, which just meant I had to go out there, bloodshot eyes and ruddy nose, and try and look human. The. magazines all tell you to go with your instinct, but I don’t think shouting ‘Fuck off, fuckface’ would have been the best sales technique right now.

It was Tom Drummond. He was wearing another suit, this one plain black, and carrying a very smart briefcase. His mouth opened a touch - just a touch - at the sight of me, before he remembered his manners and shut it, pretending nothing whatsoever was wrong.

Yesterday he’d come in here and seen me with my mother. Today he got the full-on hysterical female look. I would love to say I was now past caring, but amazingly enough, I was still behind caring. I cared a hell” of a lot that he saw me like this.

In fact I gave a strangled yelp and ran back into the

1OO.

‘Alex?’ came Tom’s gentle voice. ‘Alex, are you OK?’

Tm fine,’ I yelled back, frantically wiping and slapping, on the old concealer and blusher. Oh God, a bottle of Optrex, my kingdom for a bottle of Optrex. ‘You haven’t split up with Gordon, have you?’

‘Certainly not, we’re very much in love, as if it’s any of your business,’ I shrieked, giving up the unequal struggle and opening the door. ‘I’m very busy, so you’d better get on with it.’

‘Mm. Rushed off your feet,’ Tom suggested, looking around the empty shop. I scowled. ‘I suppose you’ve come to tell me you’re

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cancelling for the view on Sunday. Which is fine; we hardly have the space for one more.’

‘Not even when he’s looking to make a major purchase?’ Tom asked lightly. ‘Because I’m not cancelling at all. I wanted you to know that. I realise you’ve had a quarrel with your sister.’

‘You’re living together now,’ I said, struggling to keep the dejection out of my voice.

Tom nodded. Oh shit, he was good looking. The man is fine, as Keisha would say, he has got it going on. ‘Just until she finds another place of her own. But I

told her, my promise to you must stand, of course.’ ‘Hey, don’t do me any favours, OK?’ I snapped.

Tom frowned. ‘Damn, Alex, just when I was thinking you’d mellowed out a little.’

‘Mellow is for coffee,’ I snarled. Then I remembered that I’d irrdirectly cost Tom about half his savings, so I blushed and looked away. ‘But you can still come, if you want to.’

I was staring fixedly at the wood when Tom reached out and took my hand. The contact of his skin on mine was so surprising, so electrifying, I jumped out of my skin, like a pheasant clattering away from his gun.

‘Alex, do you have to tense that way?’ he asked softly. ‘We’ve known each other for years, can’t we still be friends?’

“Course,’ I grunted, because I didn’t trust myself to say anything else. Friends? Why? So you and Gail can torture me? I’ve got enough friends, thanks.

I sneaked up a look at him. He was regarding me so

warmly I feared I might start blubbing again. ‘What’s Gail going to say?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘Gail and you - Charles and I fight all the time, it’s just siblings. I’m sure you’ll make it up. And anyway, I pick my own friends.’ He chuckled, and I noticed the way his eyes went all crinkly at the

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corners when he did that. To think, I could have had

this guy, I thought to myself.

‘I can’t believe you blew your nose on it,’ he said.

I grinned. I knew I should apologise, but who cared,

she was asking for it.

‘Look.’ I said it before I thought hard enough to stop myself. ‘Do you have a few minutes? We could go and have tea.’

Tom looked at his watch. It looked expensive. ‘I’ve got a meeting in an hour.’ ‘Sure,’ I said, feeling crestfallen.

‘But I’ll put them off. Hold on a second.’ He took

out a mobile, looking rather shamefaced at carrying something so modern, and rang his secretary. She was lutting up a bit of a fight but Tom was having none of it, and I felt my mood lift, just a little. It was probably super-masochistic, but I wanted his company. Without Gail, or Keisha, or Ellen, or anyone else around.

I bolted off to the 1oo to try some more last-minute repairs. It wasn’t great, but you do your best with what you have, I suppose. At least I looked presentable. The plain black Warehouse trouser suit hid my scrawniness and actually came off as quite bohemian, with the severe crop. Right now I couldn’t hope for much better.

‘I know a greasy spoon round the corner,’ I said enthusiastically.

‘Greasy spoon? Don’t be ridiculous,’ Tom said, ‘I’ve booked us into the Savoy.’

Twenty minutes later we were seated on a chintz

sofa, a plate of scrumptious little finger sandwiches in front of us, with minute cakes on the tier above and scones with clotted cream and jam on the tier below. An obsequious waiter had seated us in five seconds flat, and another was pouring the Lapsang Souchong. God, but these things were delicious, and the atmos.phere

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through the door.

Lucky, lucky Gail, I thought jealously.

The pianist struck up ‘Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off’. It was a bit ‘England for American tourists’, but still. You didn’t enjoy this, you were made of clay, like one of my sculptures.

‘I was sorry we quarrelled,’ Tom said tentatively.

The too,’ I gabbled, ‘really, because I swear I didn’t know—’

‘Oh, I know you didn’t.’

‘But I behaved so badly, I know I contributed, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,’ I said, and felt my throat knot again. Oh no, I hate this, I tend to cry when I’m embarrassed. I may not even be in a crying mood, but when I’m severely embarrassed, I get weepy. I forced it down - aot again.

‘Nonsense,’ Tom said, also rushing his words out. Probably because he was one of those Englishmen who looked on discussions about feelings, apologies and such like with the eye of a six-year-old looking at a visit to the dentist’s. ‘I was an oaf! As if you were responsible for what my brother did! As if I had any right to tell you how to live your life!’

I bit my tongue. Seamus! Oh man, what had Gail been feeding him?

‘Seamus and I—’

He held up a hand. ‘You don’t need to explain, like I said, it’s none of my business.’

‘Honestly, he was iumping on me. I couldn’t get him to go away,’ I said in a small voice, ‘and he’d told me his marriage was dead. I know it’s no excuse, but I felt so miserable. That’s why I was bloody to Ellen. I felt like no man would ever want me.’

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‘No man would ever want you,’ Tom repeated. He looked thunderstruck. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

I smiled softly. I didn’t want Tom feeling sorry for

me.

‘So how’s life with Gail?’ I asked.

He squirmed a bit. Maybehe thought she’d have his

, guts for garters just for talking to me. ‘Fine. I was - a

little surprised when she turned up so suddenly.’ ‘She’s very beautiful,’ I said encouragingly. ‘She is,’ he agreed. ‘Extremely attractive.’ Well, I don’t know about extremely … ‘Wonderful hair,’ Tom said. ‘Fabulous eyes, they’re absolutely huge. And she’s very delicate. Lovely hands.’