Women of a Dangerous Age (28 page)

Ali was staring into the middle distance. ‘He says not but, you know what?' She turned her gaze to Lou. ‘I'm not going to hang around to find out. I'm going over there to have a full and frank conversation with the woman. I'm
going to make her realise Don and I are serious and that she's not wanted.'

‘Shouldn't he be the one doing that?' There was something slightly unhinged about Ali's proposed plan that made Lou uneasy.

‘Of course. But it's taking him so long.'

‘I thought he was good at confrontation. Look at the way he handled Eric.'

‘But that wasn't his problem. That was between Dad and me. He just made the resolution possible.' She picked a small white daisy and tore the petals off one after another, tossing them into the breeze. ‘You see, he does love me.'

‘I don't really see the difference. The point is he got you both to the point where you could talk.'

‘I know, I know. But I feel I've got to do something, say something, or I'll go mad.' Ali kicked at a half-buried stone.

‘You really think that'll work?' she asked. ‘Why would she take any notice of you? I wouldn't. In fact, having you turn up would make me even more determined to stick around.'

‘Yes.' Ali scuffed patterns in the dust with her feet. ‘Perhaps you're right.' She kicked at a stone that remained wedged in the earth. ‘I know! You'll have to go instead.'

‘Me? Don't be daft. She's not going to listen to me.' She wasn't entirely sure whether Ali was joking or not.

‘But she might if you were telling her something about Don that she wouldn't want to hear.'

‘No, no and no. What do want me to say – that I'm having his baby?' She stuck out her stomach and stroked
it. They both laughed, although Ali less enthusiastically. Lou stood up, the pressure on her blister making it smart. But Ali didn't move, except to look up at her.

‘Look, all you have to do, is go there and pretend that he owes you money, say. A lot of money. Perhaps knowing he isn't worth what she thinks would put her off. Perhaps that's what she's after.'

‘She's never going to believe that. No.' Lou began to limp away, still laughing.

Ali rose and caught her up. ‘What if you said you were his mistress, then? Three's a crowd, right?'

‘Look …' Lou stopped so abruptly that two girls behind them almost walked into her. She stepped to one side with an apology as they walked past, tottering on their stacked espadrilles. ‘This is stupid. I might as well tell her he's a cross-dresser with an opium habit. She's not going to believe anything I say. Would you?'

‘Nooo.' Ali sounded uncertain, all the same. ‘But I can't risk her getting her claws in. The longer she's here …'

‘But, Al,' Lou objected. ‘Don't you trust him? If you don't, then what are you fighting for?'

‘I do, really. It's just her. Our history might not stack up to much against theirs, but her getting involved has made me realise how much I love him …' She broke off as her voice choked. ‘I haven't seen him for five days. He's worried about seeing me because he doesn't “want to get her back up because then she'll be even harder to shift”.' She mimicked Don's excuse in a high-pitched sing-song, but a tear sploshed onto her top and her chin wobbled as she struggled to control herself.

Until that moment, Lou hadn't really appreciated how badly Susie's appearance had rattled Ali. The tough, self-sufficient facade that she was used to had cracked open to reveal a new, more vulnerable side to her friend.

‘Look. Either he wants you or he doesn't. You can't go on like this, so perhaps you
should
go round there. Not to confront
her
– that would be madness – but to talk to both of them. It won't be easy and I wouldn't want to do it, but that way at least you'll know.'

Ali shook her head. ‘But this isn't how I wanted it to be. This is our second chance. God, I know I sound like someone out of a bad romantic novel, but I couldn't bear it if I lost him again.' She put her hands to her face, her fingers rubbing along the lines of her eye sockets.

‘Then you must make sure you don't. Come on, let's get that coffee.'

Following the tarmacked path, Lou made sure she was the one who set the pace, and to something a little less gruelling than before. As they walked, she listened as Ali continued to thrash out her dilemma, retreading the same ground as she convinced herself that insisting on seeing Don and Susie was the right thing to do. But however much she empathised, Lou knew that only one of them could take responsibility for Ali's final decision, and that was Ali herself. She was pleased to be her sounding board, and to offer an opinion when needed, but she couldn't help letting her mind drift to Sanjeev, grateful that their relationship was so much less complicated and intense. The better she had got to know him, the more she felt there was a chance they might reach a happy and relaxed
arrangement that would suit them both. Beyond that, she was looking forward to a long bath and a night in when she could confirm to herself the rightness of her decisions about her future. She hadn't mentioned Hooker's attempt to get back into her life to anyone else, simply because she didn't want her decision to be influenced by anyone else's opinions. After all, she was the one who was going to have to live with her choice.

The nearer she got to Don's apartment block, the more nervous Ali became. With every step, the idea of any kind of confrontation with him and Susie grew less appealing. He had sounded doubtful when she'd called to say that she was coming over but he hadn't tried to stop her. Now she rather wished he had. She had kept their conversation to a minimum. Everything that needed to be said should be said face to face. With or without Lou's help, she was determined to put her relationship with him back on track. She accepted that she was as guilty as he was of not telling the whole story, so whatever his reasons, she would accept them. How much she had changed in such a short time. After Hooker had shown his true colours and she had met Don again, everything had fallen into place. Between them, the two men had made her focus on what she wanted from the rest of her life and where her priorities lay. She finally felt a clarity of purpose that had been missing from most of her adult life.

Arriving at the base of the sinuously curved, largely glass
tower block in which he lived, she pressed the entrance buzzer. After a few moments, she heard Don's voice, distorted over the intercom. ‘Hallo?'

‘It's Ali,' she said, keeping her voice steadier than she felt.

‘Come up.' Then he had gone. A click alerted to her to the door opening. She pushed it wide, wished the doorman a good afternoon and walked to the lift. Before pressing the button, she quickly removed her trainers, swapped them with the heels in her bag and rolled down the legs of her bootcuts. As the lift shuddered into movement, she checked her reflection in its mirrored walls. She had dressed to look seductive but formidable – jeans and the vintage check jacket. Her fingers fiddled with her fringe, pushing its weight to one side. She leaned forward to examine her face more closely, rubbing her cheeks in case she'd overdone the blusher. At that moment, the lift stopped with a judder and the doors opened.

The corridor was empty. The blank white walls looked hygienic and character free, just as she imagined those in a Swiss sanatorium. The only splash of colour was the psychedelic coloured doormat marking Don's front door. As she raised her hand to press the bell, she was seized again by doubt. Was this the most sensible way for a grown woman to behave? There was still time for her to beat a retreat and insist on meeting Don alone. That would be more sensible. What had she been thinking? She turned back towards the lift. At that moment, the door opened.

‘Ali?'

She swung round. Seeing him again, everything she was going to say, all that she'd carefully rehearsed aloud the night before, flew from her head.

‘Leaving already?'

At that slightly quizzical smile, her stomach turned over. She reminded herself that she was not a lovesick teenager but a woman on a mission to get what she wanted. Him.

‘Er, no. Just thought I must have dropped my gloves in the lift.'

‘The ones that are hanging out of your bag?' He pulled the door wide. Behind him, the door to his living room was shut. Behind it lurked the monster she had come to vanquish.

‘Oh, yes! Of course.' With a forced laugh, she folded them and stashed them safely before zipping her bag, catching the lining so it wouldn't completely close. She pretended nothing was wrong.

‘Come in.'

If she wasn't mistaken the small bow he made mocked her.

‘Thanks.' Ali gathered the last of her wits and went inside. With him behind her, unable to see her face, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pushed open the living-room door with a flourish.

The room was empty. Her first impression was of the drifts of paper that covered the dining table and spread from there across the floor to the bright red sofa facing towards the Thames. On the kitchen counter, a half loaf
of bread was upended by a bread knife, two unwashed mugs and an open tub of reduced fat spread. She could see the crumbs in it from where she was standing. A plastic supermarket bag sat unpacked by the hob. The dining table looked like the office desk of an inveterate hoarder: opened envelopes and plastic files were piled higgledy-piggledy around an open laptop. Susie was obviously nowhere near as pernickety as herself. But of course that probably suited Don far better than her own obsessive tidiness, she thought with a pang of regret. However, there was no evidence of a female presence in the room. All Susie's stuff must be stashed in the bedroom, despite the shortage of storage space. Ali experienced a tiny pang of anguish as she remembered the last time she was in there herself.

‘Where's Susie? I was hoping to see you both?' Yes, she sounded appropriately commanding. Too commanding, perhaps.

Don had followed her into the room and was wrestling to impose some sort of order on the paper trail, gathering the pages and heaping them onto a dining chair. ‘Not here.'

‘But didn't I say …' Her voice tailed off as she realised this wasn't going to be her moment after all. The battle would have to be deferred. Deflated didn't come close to summing up what she felt.

‘Yes, but she couldn't hang around.' Don looked up for a second before he carried on sorting out a space where they could sit, hardly bothering to hide his smile.

Ali tried again. ‘Didn't you tell her I was coming? I need to talk to her.' She despaired of besting her rival now.
Don's smile of pleasure at the mention of her name had said it all.

‘Sorry.' This time he could barely contain his amusement. The bastard was laughing at her!

Feeling about two feet tall and wishing she was anywhere but there, she turned for the door. There was no point arranging a rematch if she had already lost him.

‘She had a plane to catch.'

It took a moment for the words to register. Then, before she'd had time to face him, his arms were wrapped about her. He was kissing the back of her neck, below her ear, her cheek. She inched herself round until at last she was facing him and could see his grin. Never had anyone looked so pleased with themselves. She pulled back from his embrace. ‘You're squeezing me to death! What do you mean?'

‘Susie's gone back to Australia.' His grin threatened to split his face. ‘I took her to the airport myself at lunchtime, just to make sure. I didn't want to say anything until she'd gone but then you were so damn pushy about coming over, I couldn't stop you.'

‘What happened?' She was beginning to feel faint but quite definite stirrings of euphoria.

‘Two things.' Don took her hand and led her to the sofa where they sat, knee to knee. Over his shoulder, she could see a police helicopter flying parallel to the river like a giant gnat. ‘I told her that she couldn't stay, that there was no future for us under any circumstances. I won't bore you with the tears and tantrums but she eventually accepted that I meant what I said. But then, a miracle happened. As she was packing, Mike called to plead with her to return
home. Poor sod. But the combination did the job. She's gone back to him, after all.'

‘She agreed to the divorce?' Ali was having trouble taking the information in. She had built herself up to say her piece, and now the ground had been whipped from under her.

‘Of course.' He placed both his hands on her knees and gave them a reassuring squeeze. ‘She's a determined woman but not a bad one. What I needed was time to persuade her. I told you in the park that I wasn't going to let you go again. You should have trusted me.'

‘I'd even prepared a speech.'

‘You could always try it out on me anyway.' Don lay back against the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest, looking expectant.

‘No way.'

‘Shame to waste a good speech. Give me the gist then.'

Self-conscious, Ali looked down at her knees, wishing his hands were still there. As if he'd read her mind, he changed position and grasped both her hands. How stupid she had been to think that she could ever influence him or, more particularly, his ex-wife. Working out their own agenda was something only they could do. He was right. She should have trusted him. And she should have listened to Lou.

‘Oh, you don't want to hear it. I was so crazy to have you back that I'd have sounded like a madwoman. You'd probably have begged her to stay after that.'

‘No,' he said quietly, reaching out to stroke Ali's cheek, the teasing gone from his voice. ‘No, I wouldn't. It's you and me from now on. For better for worse. All that stuff.'

‘Is that a proposal?' she half joked in an embarrassed attempt to lighten the mood, but seeing how serious Don looked, wished she hadn't.

‘Perhaps it's a bit indecent to be asking you quite so soon after Susie's departure but, yes. If that's what you want then it's a proposal.' His thumb ran up and down her ring finger.

The breath stopped in her throat. She looked around her, calming herself by looking at her surroundings, his way of being. She took in all his clutter, the paper, the chaotic kitchen, the disordered shelves, the dining table. She remembered his bedroom, the clothes that had missed the laundry basket, the disordered wardrobe. Then she remembered the mess in which he left her bathroom and the stubble in her basin along with his jumbled drawers, his enormous shoes lying in wait to trip her up, the pristine apartment that she loved, the conversation she'd had with Lou. ‘But I can't,' she moaned.

His thumb stopped moving. His expression changed from one of dreamy optimism to confusion. His eyes clouded. ‘Why ever not? I thought that was what you wanted.'

‘It is. I do. But …' She stopped, knowing how trite and self-obsessed she was about to sound. The bewilderment on his face made her hesitate. How much easier it would be to say nothing. Yet this relationship had to be based on honesty. If she didn't admit to her feelings now, there'd only be trouble later. And in due course, she'd have to tell him about Hooker and the others as well. But not this minute.

‘But what? There's nothing to stop us now. Or is there something you haven't told me?' He sounded suddenly wary.

‘Yes, there is. Just one thing. I want to be with you, marry you even, but I
can't
live with you.' There, she'd said it. She didn't dare look at him, not wanting to see his disappointment or even his anger. All she could hear was the ticking of the clock on the bookshelf, a distant shout from somewhere outside. The longer Don was silent, the more tense the moment felt. Ali concentrated on dropping her shoulders, which were in danger of eclipsing her ears. She closed her eyes and tried to explain. ‘I'm so sorry. I don't really expect you to understand – why should you? – but I've lived on my own ever since you left and I guess I'm just a bit, well …' How to describe herself best so that he would understand?

‘Independent? Set in your ways? Obstinate?' He filled the gap for her. But he didn't sound angry. She opened her eyes, expecting to see him tight-lipped and unforgiving. To her astonishment, he was smiling.

‘Yes, I suppose so,' she said uncertainly, not at all sure where they were going with this.

‘That's fine.' Don leaned towards her and kissed the tip of her nose.

‘It is?' This time it was Ali's turn to stare in bewilderment.

‘Of course. We're both too set in our ways to change them at the drop of a hat. I've seen how much you value your own space and how much you love that apartment. And I know how untidy I am and how irritated it makes
you.' He gave a rueful smile. ‘I'm not saying, never the twain shall meet. Who knows? But how about keeping our own places and extending each other copious conjugal visitation rights? Wouldn't that work?'

Another pinch-me moment. After so many years of being on her own, establishing her independence, she had found a man who understood her. Or at least, understood her better than anyone else ever had. And, more than that, who wanted to commit himself to her one hundred per cent. ‘You really mean that? You'd do that?'

‘Of course I do, you idiot. Just one thing?'

‘Mmm?' There had to be a hitch and here it came, galloping towards her. She waited, tense.

‘What would you think about my moving nearer to you?'

Shared evenings, morning runs and weekends coursed through Ali's mind as she envisaged them getting the most out of each other's company and yet being able to retreat home alone when necessary. His work and his dirty washing could clutter his own flat. He could go there to listen to Genesis, Dylan, whatever, at full volume, or watch football till he was blue in the face. She could continue to enjoy her home as she knew it. Surely the perfect solution. At least for the time being. She kissed him, feeling him relax and respond in kind, before she disengaged herself and said, ‘I can't think of anything I'd like better.'

‘I can think of one thing
I
'd like better, right now,' he added, the twinkle back in his eye.

‘What?' She didn't think she could take another surprise.

‘Follow me.' He stood and pulled Ali to her feet. Finding no resistance, he led her from the room across the hall and into the bedroom.

A couple of hours later, they emerged, flushed but booted and suited to face the rest of the day. Ali was reluctant to leave but had promised to meet Rick at the studio to go through his first collection for Lou. As she left the flat, Don folded up the edge of his doormat to hold the door while he walked her to the lift. As she reached the ground floor, she took out her phone to find two texts and a missed call. One was from Don sent half a minute earlier:

Luv u. This is def the rt thing. D xx

She smiled and ran her finger over the words before scrolling to the next text. This announced a missed call from none other than Mrs Orlov. She immediately switched to the voicemail to hear her customer's excuse of being out of the country for reasons she couldn't explain, and about which Ali didn't care, then punched the air in the knowledge that the jewellery was going to be collected and paid for after all. And the last from Hooker: