Bookends

Chapter seventeen

As usual, Si opens the door to Josh and Lucy’s house and welcomes us in, giving Portia a brief hug before turning to me and leaning forward to give me a kiss. And then he stops.

‘Oh my God!’

I smile.

‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!’

Lucy comes running out of the kitchen, and Josh comes running out of the living room, and within seconds all three of them are staring at me open-mouthed.

‘Can I touch it?’ Si whispers reverently, as he reaches out his hand and softly strokes my head as if I were a cat, while Portia looks on with faint amusement.

‘Look at our Cath!’ Lucy beams proudly. ‘Quite the supermodel! Cath, you look gorgeous, look at your fantastic hair, and your sweater! Good Lord, Cath, pink will have to be your colour from now on.’

‘You look amazing,’ Josh says, when he finally recovers, and he catches Portia’s eye and immediately goes over to welcome her.

I watch, and I can see Si watching out of the corner of his eye as Josh leans down to give her a kiss, and Portia, instead of kissing the air as she has done with the rest of us, plants her lips softly, but very definitely, on Josh’s cheek, and I look at Si in alarm as he raises an eyebrow.

‘Oh look, you daft thing.’ Lucy walks past Josh with my coat and, seeing Josh, laughs, then reaches up to wipe the lipstick off his face, as a slow flush creeps up Josh’s face.

We go into the living room, and because we’re so late I’m certain that James will already be in there, so imagine my surprise when the vile Will turns round from examining the bookshelves and gives me his evil lizard smile.

‘Hello, Catherine,’ he says, extending a hand that I reluctantly take, wondering how a person’s eyes can make them look so cold. ‘Nice to see you again.’

‘And you,’ I say, nodding, extracting my hand and shooting a filthy look at Si for not telling me Will was coming. ‘This is Portia.’ I do my best to appear polite by introducing them, and I edge towards the door.

I can see that Will obviously approves of Portia, as he suddenly flashes a charming and disarming smile at her, and for the first time I see a hint of what Alison Bailey was referring to when she said he could be the most charming man on earth.

But I am not fooled.

‘I am not fooled,’ I hiss to Si, as I go into the kitchen to try to discover what has happened to James.

‘Be nice,’ Si warns. ‘It’s only one evening, and I knew if I’d told you he was coming you wouldn’t have come, would you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Truth.’

‘No.’

‘Listen, sweets.’ Si stops and looks at me very seriously. ‘I know you don’t like him, but please try and make an effort. You don’t have to love him, but I think he might be around for a while, and it would make me so happy if you could just come to some sort of amicable arrangement. Not friends necessarily, just being on polite terms.’

‘Okay,’ I grumble, as Si puts his arms around me and gives me a hug. ‘I’ll try. Is James in the kitchen?’

Si disengages himself from my arms and says, ‘No. Why?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ and I walk into the kitchen, ignoring the eyes boring into the back of my neck.

Lucy hands me a bowl of Indonesian crisps and instructs me to take them into the living room, and just as I head out of the room I turn my head and say in a nonchalant manner, ‘Isn’t James coming tonight?’

‘Oh bugger!’ Lucy slaps her forehead. ‘Oh blast! Oh damn! I knew there was something I’d forgotten.’ She puts her head in her hands, then looks up at me with guilty eyes.

‘Oh, Cath, I’m sorry, can you forgive me?’ She looks mortified, and I feel a flash of anger at her because this is just so typical. Typical of her to be so scatty and to forget. This is exactly what Si was talking about, why he warned me off going into business with her. I mean, Christ, how could you forget to invite someone to a dinner party?

‘Bugger. And you look so gorgeous, I can’t believe it.’ She’s genuinely devastated and I start to forgive her. It’s not the end of the world. I’m just disappointed.

‘What happened?’

‘I phoned him and then the machine picked up just as my call waiting went and so I left it and I just completely forgot to call him back. I don’t believe it,’ and then her eyes light up. ‘Let’s call him now!’

‘No.’ I lay a firm hand on Lucy’s arm, which is reaching for the phone. ‘If it’s okay with you, I’d be much happier if you didn’t.’

‘Oh, Cath. I am so, so sorry. Can you forgive me?’

‘Don’t worry,’ I say, but I feel like laying my head on my arms and sinking into a deep sleep. It’s not even as if I’m terribly upset, I’m just weary. Weary of this whole relationship game. Weary even though I’ve only taken one tiny tentative step back into the lion’s den, and already I’m learning that I’m just not equipped to win this one.

I like being alone. I always have. But it’s not the present that worries me. What worries me is that I’ll have to spend the next fifty years on my own, and that’s something that I really don’t want to have to think about. But in the meantime I’m used to my own company, and I haven’t had to think about anyone else for months. Years.

But the thing is that since I’ve met James, since everyone started banging on and on about my not-so-secret admirer, I’d started to find it quite exciting. I’d forgotten that I don’t get involved because the pain just isn’t worth it. All that flattery and attention distracted me from any pain that might have been lurking around the corner, but of course the pain got me in the end. It always does.

I take the bowl into the living room and sink miserably into the sofa, as Josh looks at me with a worried expression, then leaves the room, presumably to find out what’s wrong.

Portia and Will are deep in discussion, and, bizarre as this may sound, it almost looks as if he’s flirting with her. Bizarre only because I had him down as a complete misogynist, but then again maybe it’s just me. Maybe he only gives time to women like Portia.

I watch Si trying to push his way into the conversation, only to be ignored, and eventually he comes over to me with a shrug and an apologetic smile.

‘They seem to be getting on like a house on fire.’

‘I know. Thank God someone seems to finally like him.’

‘Why? Have Josh and Lucy already expressed disapproval, then?’

‘Not yet,’ he says, wincing, ‘but I’ve got a horrible feeling this evening isn’t going to run smoothly.’

‘God, you and your bloody feelings,’ I laugh, as Josh and Lucy walk in, having finally got the food in the oven, the glasses on the table, and the devilspawn in bed.

‘Will.’ Josh pours him some more wine. ‘Si tells us you live in Clerkenwell. How do you find it.’

‘I love it,’ Will says. ‘I’ve got the most incredible loft in probably the best building in Clerkenwell, and there’s always something going on in the neighbourhood.’

‘Will’s been thinking about moving to Soho, though,’ Si interjects in his best husbandly way.

‘Really? Why?’

‘I’m not seriously thinking, it’s just that the only problem with Clerkenwell is it’s pretty much in the back of beyond and I miss being in the centre of things. Don’t you feel the same way living here?’

The hairs on my back bristle, but luckily he wasn’t talking to me and I leave it to Lucy to deal with that last comment.

‘Here? Why on earth should we feel that living here?’

‘Well, the suburbs.’

‘But this isn’t the suburbs,’ Lucy says pointedly. ‘It’s West Hampstead. We’re practically in town.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Will sneers. ‘This is the nineties version of suburbia. A high street lined with cafés and local ethnic restaurants, and the whole area filled to bursting with young marrieds like yourself with their 2.4 children and a four-wheel drive. It’s the updated version of Abigail’s Party. Mike Leigh would have a ball.’

I’m dying to open my mouth, but I’m frightened that if I do the damage will be irreparable, not only to any future relationship I may or may not have with Will, but more importantly to the relationship I have with Si.

‘You are joking?’ Lucy says very quietly, as Will shrugs and says he’s not. ‘First of all, Will,’ and I can tell by the inflection on his name that Lucy is seriously pissed off, which is something that doesn’t happen all that often, ‘I can tell you that West Hampstead is a fifteen-minute drive to the West End, and a ten-minute ride on the Thameslink to the City, which I think you’ll find would not merit a labelling of suburbia anywhere.

‘Secondly, irrespective of that, what exactly is wrong with an area that caters to the needs of, as you put it, young marrieds?’

Will shrugs disdainfully. ‘It’s just, well. Look at you all. You think you’re so cutting-edge and trendy, with your stainless-steel top-of-the-range kitchen equipment and your Alessi corkscrews, but this, all of you, are just the nineties version of suburbia,’ this last said with an unmistakable sneer, and I almost gasp in shock.

‘I’m not entirely sure of the point you’re making,’ Lucy says, her voice ice-cold, ‘but I’m certain that whatever it is I don’t agree with it. So what if we have Alessi corkscrews and four-wheel drives…’ She takes a breath and is about to carry on, but Portia steps in and expertly changes the subject to calm everyone down.

‘Speaking of four-wheel drives,’ she says coolly, ‘I’ve been thinking about trading in my car for one of those jeeps. I quite fancy the idea of being so high up on the road – it adds a whole new perspective to my superiority complex.’

Everyone laughs, and the tension is shattered, and I wonder how I had forgotten Portia’s ability to do this – to diffuse situations, to calm things down, to take control. For a few seconds I am immensely grateful to Portia for coming back, because I’m quite certain that given a few minutes longer I would have punched Will in the mouth.

We somehow manage to sit and make small talk, and Si goes to sit next to Will, obviously protective of him tonight, and I watch Si watching Will with big, adoring eyes, and I can’t help but note that Will barely even turns to look at him.

If I were to give him the benefit of the doubt I’d say that Will was trying so hard to make a good impression on everyone else that he was temporarily abandoning Si, but somehow I don’t think it is that. I just don’t think he’s all that interested, really, but God, how I hope I’m wrong.

Eventually we stand up and all file into the dining room, as I give Lucy’s arm a squeeze, because none of us has even been into the dining room for about two years – we always eat in the kitchen – and I find myself seated next to Josh at the top and then, thank God, next to Si.

Will walks past my chair on his way to his place, and as he passes he leans down and touches my sleeve. ‘Very nice,’ he says, and I open my mouth to thank him for such an unexpected compliment. ‘Shame it’s not pure cashmere,’ and with that he walks off round the table.

Portia is on the other side of Josh, opposite me, and thankfully next to Will, and in the commotion as people take their seats Si leans over and whispers, ‘Bet you a fiver she flirts with Josh all night.’ I raise my eyes to see Portia watching us, and a guilty flush threatens to rise, but I give her a strained smile and ignore Si.

But Si is wrong about Portia and Josh. Not, perhaps, through choice, but for lack of opportunity. Will has evidently decided that Portia is the only person at this table worthy of his attention and proceeds to monopolize her from the moment she sits down.

The rest of us fall into our easy conversations. We talk about the bookshop, and I make everyone laugh with tales of mad customers. Already three people have come in and asked for a book, and, on being told it isn’t stocked but it could be here the next day, have gone on to ask if Waterstone’s have the book.

Lucy chuckles, as I apparently kept smiling through gritted teeth, even as I politely told them to go and find out for themselves. And where, the customers wanted to know, would they find the book? Which section would it be in, and on which floor?

The conversation dies down as Lucy brings in the chicken dish, and we all make the appropriate noises of delight at the smell as Lucy lifts the lid to release the steam.

All, that is, except for Will. He says nothing until he is served, and when we all start eating, all groaning with pleasure, Will chews for a while, then puts his knife and fork together on his plate and pushes his plate aside. We all stop and stare.

‘Is everything okay?’ Lucy asks.

Will sneers at the food. ‘Not really, no. This is supposed to be a River Café recipe, isn’t it?’ he says, as Lucy looks worried. ‘I sort of recognize it.’ Lucy nods, as Will continues. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something not right about it. You’ve changed the herbs, done something different, what is it?’

Lucy’s face falls, and I look at Si in exasperation, as he simply looks crestfallen.

‘Well,’ Lucy says uncertainly, ‘the thing is, I don’t usually tend to stick to recipes all that precisely any more. I’m not sure what I did differently, but I just used that recipe as a guideline, a base. You don’t like it?’

‘Put it like this,’ Will says, picking up the knife and pointing it dismissively at the food as I hold my breath. ‘Inedible would be one of the nicer things I would say about it.’

Si and I catch each other’s eyes nervously, and nobody says anything for what feels like an interminably long time, when Josh stands up and the silence that has already descended on the table grows even more fraught.

‘Enough,’ Josh says slowly, and we all turn to look at him. ‘Will, I would like you to leave.’

I would love to say that I sat there and smirked, but in fact I was so shocked at Josh saying this, doing something about this ghastly awful man, that I just sat there open-mouthed, and it didn’t take long to realize that everyone else was doing the same thing.

‘You’re not serious,’ Will says, half smiling, picking up his fork and prodding the chicken on his plate.

‘Put. That. Fork. Down.’ Josh says, and my eyes widen because I don’t think I have ever seen Josh that angry before. I didn’t know Josh could even get that angry. Portia looks as stunned as me, and Lucy and Si are both looking at their plates.

‘I welcomed you into my home as a guest, and you have spent the entire evening making me regret ever allowing you across the threshold. You have insulted my wife, my friends and me. You are not welcome here, and I want you to leave this instant.’

Finally Will seems to realize that he’s not joking. Si’s face is purple with embarrassment, and, as Will scrapes his chair back, Si stands up as well, but he can’t look any of us in the eye.

‘Fine,’ Will says, as he walks out of the room, Si scuttling behind him to get their coats. ‘I was here on sufferance anyway.’ I keep my eyes glued to the tablecloth, terrified that if he catches my eye he’ll start on me, and I really don’t think I could handle that, because this man, I swear, is vicious.

Will storms out, slamming the front door, as we all wince, fully aware that there is a child asleep upstairs, and Si hovers in the hallway apologizing to Josh. And from what I hear, Josh is telling Si that it’s not his fault, and that Si is welcome to stay, of course he is, but if he wants to leave we’ll all understand.

Of course Si, loving, lovely, needy, insecure Si, leaves. And as soon as the door quietly closes behind him and we are all just about to breathe a sigh of relief, a familiar clattering comes down the stairs.

‘Lucy.’ Ingrid towers in the doorway. ‘Why are there doors being slammed when Max is asleep.’

‘God, I’m sorry Ingrid,’ Lucy apologizes. ‘It was one of our guests, he left in a bit of a hurry.’ She pauses. ‘Ingrid,’ and I can already hear the placatory tone in her voice. ‘Would you like some supper? We’ve got masses of this chicken left over.’

‘And it’s delicious,’ I add, just in case there’s any doubt.

‘No,’ Ingrid says, scanning the room. ‘I have eaten already.’

‘You know Cath, of course,’ Lucy says, as Ingrid barely nods in my direction. ‘And this is an old friend of Josh, Portia.’ Lucy presumably wants Ingrid to feel as if she is one of us, and I’m waiting for her to invite Ingrid to join us, but thank God one nightmare guest is enough for one evening. ‘Portia, this is Ingrid, our wonderful au pair.’

Portia smiles at Ingrid, and, Christ, does this woman’s charm never cease, Ingrid actually smiles back, and I realize that in all the time Ingrid’s been here, I’ve never actually seen her smile, and if I didn’t know better I’d think Ingrid was as sweet as sugar from the beatific smile she now bestows upon Portia.

‘Is there anything we can do for you, Ingrid?’ Josh asks, and I marvel at how they both seem to tiptoe around her, when it’s their bloody house.

‘I would like some peace and quiet so I can read and Max can sleep,’ she says, turning on her heel, then turning back. ‘It was nice to meet you, Portia. I hope you all have a nice evening,’ and she goes upstairs.

‘You’re unbelievable,’ I say to Portia once she’s gone.

‘Why?’

‘You’re like one of those Indian snake charmers. You just manage to charm everyone.’

Portia laughs. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh, come on.’ Even Josh is laughing. ‘She’s right. First of all you were the only one who managed to charm that awful Will bloke, and then you manage to charm’ – and at this point he lowers his voice to a whisper – ‘the scary Ingrid.’

‘Is she scary?’ Portia laughs, also whispering.

‘God, yes,’ Josh whispers back. ‘Ask anyone. Ask Cath.’

Lucy’s watching us with a broad smile, and she nods at Portia, who looks at me.

‘No,’ I whisper. ‘If I’m being completely honest, I’d have to say she’s completely bloody terrifying.’

‘Speaking of which,’ Lucy says after we’ve giggled childishly at the fact that we’re sitting around a table, all of us in our thirties, and all whispering because we’re frightened of the au pair, ‘how terrifying do you find the fact that Si seems to be completely enamoured with that… that pig?’

‘I told you,’ I moan. ‘Nobody believed me when I said he was awful, but he is, isn’t he, he’s disgusting.’

Portia looks pained. ‘I didn’t think he was that bad, actually,’ and my jaw hits the floor.

‘Oh, come on,’ Josh starts laughing. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

‘No,’ she says earnestly. ‘I know too many people like that, and all that arrogance hides tremendous insecurity. He wasted no time in telling me he’d spent the afternoon looking at company cars and that he was thinking of getting a Porsche Boxster, which I don’t believe for a second, but he thinks that makes him better than everyone else.’

‘Prick,’ Josh says, as we all nod in agreement.

‘But you know,’ Lucy says, doling out second helpings, which Josh and I eagerly accept, but Portia declines, whispering it was delicious, but she’s just too full, ‘I’m not sure that insecurity is a good-enough excuse for that sort of behaviour. We’re all insecure, and I really think he’s old enough to have discovered the reasons behind his insecurity, and do something about them.’

‘Darling,’ Josh says affectionately, ‘not everyone is a budding psychotherapist. He probably doesn’t even care what the reasons are.’

‘I bet I can tell you what the reasons are,’ Portia says suddenly. ‘At least some of them.’

‘Go on.’ I’m fascinated.

‘I watch people all the time, it’s how I do my job, and there were some obvious clues. First, he speaks in very polished tones. Too polished. If you listened closely there were some definite northern inflections, and after I’d asked him he confessed – reluctantly – that he was from Yorkshire.’

We’re all very impressed and stay silent for her to continue.

‘Before that he said his father was a bigwig at one of the City banks, and changed the subject when I asked which one. And then a while later he said that since he’s been living in London, for the last ten years, he’s been going home to his parents for the odd weekend and helping his dad with his accounts.

‘So his father clearly doesn’t work in the City. He’s probably a dentist or something, in a sleepy northern village outside Leeds, and Will thinks that in order to run with the fast crowd in London, which is what he so obviously wants to do, he has to make up a pack of lies that he thinks will impress people.’

‘That’s the problem with lying,’ Lucy says. ‘You can never remember what you’ve said.’

‘You’re amazing,’ Josh says, as Portia gives a self-satisfied smile.

‘No. It’s amazing what you learn about people when you look for the right signs.’

‘But at the end of the day, even if he’s from a family who didn’t have a bean, it doesn’t give him the right to be arrogant, superior and, well, as Josh put it, a prick.’ I think about using the noun that Alison Bailey had used, but even among such good friends I can’t do it.

‘True,’ Portia says. ‘But I think he’s terrified of people discovering who he really is and where he’s really from.’

‘Okay, clever clogs.’ I give Portia a challenging smile. ‘You’re proving to be the witch tonight. Is Si going to stay with him for ever?’

‘I have a feeling,’ she says with a sigh, ‘that it won’t be long before we all find out.’