Roz was winding up now, allowing Loulou to express her
faintly libellous opinion of unscrupulous
journalists who
tricked their way into
people’s lives, before drawing the
interview to a close. Another
well-known presenter, laden
down with a
spectacular bouquet of flowers, appeared on the
set to wish Roz luck for the future and to tell her how greatly
she would be missed. Even Mac knew that Roz hated
his guts, but she accepted the flowers with gracious surprise and kissed
the gay presenter’s smooth cheek. The cheering
audience
applauded wildly and Roz thanked everyone for their support.
Mac barely heard what she was saying; his mind was buzzing frantically.
How clever Roz had been. How subtly
she had introduced
the hotel incident.
And how the hell was he going to find the words he knew he
now had to say to Cecilia?
There was a tiny clink of glass as Cecilia placed the
restoppered bottle of nail polish on the mirror-topped coffee table.
Crossing her long legs, she held her outstretched
hands before
her, surveying the ten perfectly painted pink nails with
apparent absorption.
‘You’d better go,’ she said, her low-pitched voice
absolutely expressionless.
Mac turned once more to stare at her,
scarcely daring to
believe that he had
heard her correctly.
‘Oh, Mac.’ Her slender hands dropped to her lap in a
gesture
of despair. ‘I’m not stupid. Anyone
with half an eye can see
how it is between you two. It really isn’t all
that much fun, you
know, living with a man
who’s so very much in love with
someone else.’
He shook his head, struggling to assimilate her words. The
sense of relief when he finally understood that she was serious was incredible.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, meaning it.
‘
I know. You’re a nice man.’ Nodding towards
the TV screen,
she
added, ‘She seems very nice too. I hope it works out for you both this time.’
‘Thank you. So do I.’ Rising to his feet, Mac crossed over
to her chair. After a moment’s hesitation he bent and kissed her forehead.
‘I’ve been expecting this to happen,’ she said unsteadily,
and tears glistened in her beautiful topaz eyes. ‘But it’s still horrible.’
Standing up, she managed a tentative smile. ‘Give
me a hug
before you go, Mac? Please? A proper hug.’
Wordlessly he opened his arms and
drew her towards him,
his lips brushing her smooth dark hair, his hands tenderly
stroking her back.
At last Cecilia pulled away, averting
her face as she wiped
her eyes.
‘Go on,’ she whispered, ‘before I make a complete idiot of
myself. I look so ugly when I cry . .
‘You don’t,’ Mac assured her. ‘You’re a beautiful,
beautiful woman. And before long you’ll find a man who
can
make you
happy.’
‘
Please go,’ repeated
Cecilia helplessly. ‘I’ll stay here tonight
if that’s all right. Tomorrow I’ll pack my things. Jacky has a spare
room in her flat – I can go and stay there until I find a
place of my
own.’
Racked with guilt, Mac said, ‘Stay here as long as you
like. You don’t have to leave straight away.’
Cecilia
shook her head. ‘Oh yes I do,’ she said softly. ‘And so must you, Mac. Go to
her now.
Now.’
Chapter 59
When Roz and Loulou arrived back at
the house the decibel
level
rocketed. Having watched the programme, everyone knew
already that it had been an amazing success, but even Roz
admitted that the public response to the show had
been
staggering.
‘
Our unloved little old
spinster,’ she announced proudly,
placing her arm around Loulou’s
shoulders, ‘has received thirty-
seven
proposals of marriage, twenty-four job offers ranging
from the downright
dubious to the highly prestigious, and the promise of a screen test for the
next Bond film.’
‘Miss Moneypenny!’ shouted Natalie, as Nico gave Loulou a
congratulatory kiss.
Sebastian opened the first bottles of
champagne and Zoë ran
to answer the door as the first of the Vampires’ crowd arrived
back at the house to join in the celebrations.
Nico found Loulou alone in the kitchen thirty minutes
later. Oblivious to the sounds of wild partying around her, she was
standing at the sink, clutching an empty wineglass
and staring
out of the window into the blackness of the garden beyond.
‘
You’re supposed to be
celebrating,’ Nico reminded her,
surprised to see her there.
Fighting the waves of desolation, feeling guilty because
he
had caught her like this, Loulou shrugged and grinned.
‘Just
catching my breath. It’s been quite an evening.’
‘Bullshit.
You’re hiding.’ With a stern look, he refilled her glass and steered her into a
chair. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’
Loulou
hung her head in shame. Nico had always been able
to see right through
her.
‘
I’m lonely,’ she said at last. ‘I’m thirty-five, Nico. And
alone. I
hate it.’
Loulou, ever the drama queen, was speaking with
uncharacteristic lack of drama now, he realized. These, entirely unembellished,
were the bare facts of how she felt.
‘It’s an after-effect,’ he said, as firmly and
reassuringly as he knew how. ‘I feel like that after a concert. When the
adrenalin
high wears off you feel depressed
and wonder what you’re
supposed to do
next.’ It wasn’t strictly true, but he had to make
her feel she wasn’t
alone.
‘
All those men phoned
the TV station tonight,’ Loulou
continued evenly, ‘and offered to marry
me. Oh, I know they
weren’t serious . . .
but at least they took the trouble to phone
and say it, and they don’t even
know
me. What a crazy bloody
life.
Only the men who don’t know me are interested. The ones who do, run a mile.’
‘
Mac, of course.’
‘
When I married him I thought it would be perfect,’ said
Loulou,
desolation in her voice. ‘And he turned out to be more
trouble than the other two put together. I wish I’d never met
him.’
‘
Don’t be silly. You got
your wires crossed once or twice .. .
it happens to us all. But you can’t
wish that you’d never met him, Lou. Just think of all the good times you had
together.’
‘
That’s the trouble,’
sighed Loulou, pain flickering in her
eyes.
‘I can’t stop thinking of them. And it hurts like hell.
D’you know, I really thought that after Cecilia’s
birthday he
might contact me. But nothing. Then tonight, on the show . .
She gestured helplessly. ‘I thought: If he’s watching now he
might
realize what I’m saying and forgive me. I had this wild
fantasy that he would phone, or turn up there at the studios . . . and
he didn’t. More nothing. I just feel so
empty
all the
time . .
Camilla
watched quietly as Charlotte, a tray of asparagus rolls balanced precariously
on her lap, gazed up at the family portrait
above
the fireplace. The children had greeted its return, just
one week ago,
with evident pleasure and to Camilla’s relief the sight of it no longer caused
her pain.
Perching on the arm of Charlotte’s
chair, she helped herself
to one of
the rolls and stroked her daughter’s silky hair.
‘
Are you going to get
married again?’ said Charlotte, her
eyes still fixed on the painting.
‘Maybe one day. If I meet someone we all like,’ she
replied cautiously. ‘Why, sweetheart?’
‘I think Daddy’s going to get married. He’s got a
girlfriend
called Rebecca. The other day I
heard them talking about
churches.’
How strange, thought Camilla, that
the news had absolutely
no effect
upon her. It was like hearing that a distant friend was remarrying.
Proceeding
with care, she said, ‘Do you and Toby like her?’
‘
Oh yeah.’ Charlotte shrugged as if the question was irrele
vant. ‘She wears really tight pink trousers. And she doesn’t try
and force
me to eat onions. She’s nice.’
‘Well, that’s all right then.’ Camilla was relieved. For a
few
seconds they both watched Natalie,
attempting to teach
Sebastian to
dance. Roz was cringing and Rocky howled in
protest. Unnoticed by the
dark-haired man in boxer shorts and a
bow-tie,
Lili methodically filled his beer glass with broken
crisps and cashew
nuts.
‘
Is Nico your boyfriend?’ asked Charlotte abruptly, and
Camilla
almost choked on the remains of her asparagus roll.
‘He’s a friend, darling,’ she replied, glancing hastily
round to
check that he wasn’t behind her. ‘Nico’s
a good friend, that’s
all.’
‘Oh,’ said Charlotte, evidently disappointed. "Then
you aren’t going to marry him?’
‘Good heavens, no.’ Camilla, her tone determinedly
cheerful, stood up. Being given the third degree by her daughter was not
something she felt able to cope with at the
present time.
‘Sweetheart, I’d better
go and check on the rest of the food.
Could
you pass that tray around and ask Roz’s mother if she’d
like another
drink?’
‘Because if you
were
thinking about it,’ persisted
Charlotte doggedly, "Toby and I want you to know that we really do like
him. Just in case you were wondering.’
’Oh, thank goodness you’re here,’ said Poppy, when she
opened the front door and saw him standing there on the step, his dark curls
plastered to his head and his beige leather jacket darkened by the rain.
Mac hesitated, trying to place her.
‘We met – fleetingly – at the Easter Ball in
Gloucestershire,’ she explained kindly. ‘And at Vampires once, too. You’re
absolutely drenched.’
‘
My car broke down. I couldna’ get a cab. It’s
raining.’ His Scottish accent was enhanced by nerves. ‘I suppose she
is
here?’
‘
In body if not in spirit,’ said Poppy briskly,
attempting to
usher him inside, ‘but we’re relying on you to change all
that.
You aren’t
going to be beastly to her now, are you?’
‘
Me?’ said Mac, eyebrows arching in astonishment.
‘Beastly?’
‘
Oh, come in. Stop
prevaricating. Fancy me being able to
say
that incredibly complicated word! Must be the
champagne . .’ She paused, lost in self-admiration, and Mac
blinked
the rain out of his eyes.
‘I’d rather wait here. Could you find her and tell her –?’
‘Right away,’ intercepted Poppy happily. ‘How gloriously
romantic. I’ll send her out with an umbrella. Hang
on just two
sees...’
When Loulou appeared, still dressed in the yellow vest
andN white leggings she had worn on the show, she said shyly, ‘We’re having a
party. Why don’t you come in?’
‘Not yet.’ Mac gazed at her, his hands clenching inside
the
pockets of his jacket, his stomach
muscles tensing at the sight
of the girl whom he had never been able to
stop loving. ‘I don’t have anything to celebrate. Yet.’
‘Poppy’s given me her umbrella. Look, it’s got Popeye and
Olive Oyl on it.’ Babbling out of sheer panic,
Loulou struggled
to open it and almost
took her eye out on one of the spokes as
it burst suddenly to life. ‘I
didn’t even realize it was raining . .
‘Come for a walk,’ said Mac, taking it from her before she
maimed either of them for life. ‘Calm down; stop blathering. I want to talk to
you.’