Life Class (40 page)

At long last the meal was winding down. Malcolm was suggesting cognac.

‘Not for me, darling,’ Gabriella said, again with that very annoying, little girl smile. She’d only drunk water with her meal. Was she making a point?

‘And what about you, Dory? You always liked a tipple.’

For God’s sake! He was making her sound like an old soak. ‘I’ll pass on the cognac, thanks.’ She knew her refusal of the drink wouldn’t shorten the meal, but there was no point in piling fuel on the fire of her increasingly bad headache,

‘Can’t I twist your arm? We’ve something to celebrate!’

Here it comes, Dory thought, the wedding announcement.

‘No, thanks. Really,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ve already had several glasses of wine. I can raise a figurative glass.’ Dory wished Malcolm wouldn’t beam at her across the table like that.

‘I think you’ve guessed,’ he said. ‘Haven’t you?’

‘Well …’

Malcolm reached out and covered Gabriella’s hand with his and beamed. ‘We’re going to have a baby.’

Suddenly Dory understood the coy smiles and glances, when Gabriella chose not to eat spicy food or drink alcohol. She understood the extra weight that Gabriella seemed to be carrying. She went to speak and found that the inside of her mouth had turned to blotting paper. Consumed with self-congratulation, they seemed not to notice that she could hardly get the words out.

‘Wow! That’s a surprise! Wow! Congratulations!’ she uttered, her brain, and her dry, furry mouth offering nothing more coherent.

Soon they were making the short walk from the restaurant back to the house. All the way, the proud parents-to-be went on and on about the delights to come – how many months to go, the plans for the nursery, theories on child rearing, working mothers, and whether they’d be employing a nanny. Unable to digest and formulate the most basic response to this news, Dory wanted them to shut up. This whole visit had turned into more of a nightmare than she could have imagined. Her guts churned, leaking stinging fumes up into the back of her throat. All she wanted was to get Dom’s results and get home. Home? Was that really how she thought of it now?

Malcolm let them into the dark hallway, disabling the burglar alarm before turning on the lights. He slid his arm through Gabriella’s again as they mounted the stairs. Dory followed.

‘Oh, by the way, Dory,’ he said, turning to her as they reached the front door of the apartment. ‘I forgot. I’ve got that result for you.’

‘You’ve got the result?’ she repeated blankly. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘Sorry.’

‘I wish you’d told me earlier.’ Dory shook her buzzing head, aware, but not caring, that her voice had acquired an edge.

‘It wasn’t
our
priority,’ Gabriella interposed with raised eyebrows, as if Dory should know that her own concerns were trivial by comparison with their forthcoming parenthood.

‘Can’t you imagine how terribly worried … the lad has been?’

‘You weren’t expecting the result till tomorrow,’ Malcolm said. ‘Makes no difference, does it? Knowing now or knowing a couple of hours ago?’

‘If I’d known I could have phoned him.’

‘I’ve said I’m sorry,’ Malcolm repeated. But if anything he sounded more huffy than regretful. ‘It slipped my mind.’

‘We …
he
… hasn’t been able to think of anything else!’

‘You can’t expect me to feel as concerned as you obviously do. I’d have expected a bit of gratitude for doing you a favour … for getting it done so quickly, for nothing … rather than this
attitude
you’re giving me!’

‘Of course I’m grateful. It’s just, I really can’t understand why on earth you didn’t let me know?’ Dory sighed. ‘Oh, forget it, Malcolm. Give me the result and I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to stay the night. If I get a taxi quickly I’ll catch the ten o’clock.’

‘You’ll be lucky!’

‘What
is
the result?’

‘Dory! We’re handling these tests all day. If I even looked at it, I can’t remember,’ Malcolm said, as he returned down the stairs and made for the office.

Chapter Forty-three - Stefan

He had no idea of the time. The television was on, a film about cops and gangsters in New York, full of shootings and car chases and
motherfuckers
.

At another time, he and Dom might have sat and watched it together, pulling it to pieces, scoffing, and drinking beer. But Dom had been upstairs in his room for hours. Maybe he was smoking spliffs and painting the new miniatures? Maybe he was sitting at the window, looking out at the night? Stefan doubted he was sleeping peacefully.

The urge to smoke was almost irresistible, but how could he explain the lapse to Dom if he decided to come downstairs? If there was nothing else he could do for the boy, he could be a good example.

Stefan could not have explained the plot of the film. The images flashed and tumbled in front of his eyes. In his mind’s eye he could picture Dory’s face, its bone structure and features, her spiky, ash-blonde hair. He recalled the golden green of her eyes, and her mouth with that deep, straight-edged shadow beneath the lower lip which seemed to underline its fullness. It had been a long time since he’d felt this attracted to anyone. He’d learned to ignore or to smother unwanted physical promptings – unless
in extremis
, when there were ways of dealing with arousal. But was that all this was?

A noise from outside alerted him, but he immediately dismissed the unlikely possibility that someone was walking around the house in the dark. It was probably a hedgehog snuffling in the undergrowth near the back wall. But then there was an unmistakeable rap on the back door. He hadn’t heard a car arrive, but he often didn’t if he was at the back of the house. And the film was a particularly noisy one. He leapt to his feet, zapped off the TV, and was across the room in a second. In the back hall, he dragged open the door. Even though he saw what he’d hoped to see, it was surreal to find the woman he’d been thinking of standing on his doorstep.

‘Dory!’

‘I’m so glad you’re still up. I let my mobile run down …’ Her voice cracked and failed. He grasped her hands and pulled her inside. They made no further progress before she was in his arms, deep, body-shaking sobs spilling from her.

‘Dory, Dory, what’s the matter? It’s all right. It’s all right.’ He was hugging her and stroking her hair. ‘Hush, hush.’ The words, uttered automatically, bore no relation to his thoughts. ‘No!’ ricocheted back and forth inside his brain. Unable to control the agonised contortions of his face, he repeated, in a choked whisper against her hair. ‘It’s all right. It will be all right.’

‘No, sorry!’ The instant his arms tightened, she began to struggle free, pushing him away, palms flat against his chest. Gulping and shaking her head vehemently, Dory wiped her nose with the back of her hand. ‘You don’t understand.’ Though her voice was husky with emotion, he saw she was attempting to smile. ‘It’s not … It
is
all right! Dom’s clear. I’m sorry, you must have thought … I couldn’t get the words out.’

Her bottom lip – her soft, full, pouty bottom lip – was trembling. There was an odd sensation, a kind of falling away, inside him.

‘You’re sure?’ he said, then paused, staring at her. He needed time to let the words sink in, to wonder what that sudden landslide of emotion inside him signified. ‘I can hardly believe it. That’s … that’s wonderful news,’ he managed. ‘Thank you. Thank you. I’m so relieved.’ He pulled her back into the hug and they stood there, clasped together. This woman, who he’d suddenly realised was important to him, had brought him the spectacular news that Dom was all right. He released his breath in a stuttering sigh. Slow footfalls came down the back stairs behind them. Stefan sniffed and turned, his arm round Dory’s shoulders. The boy had stopped. Level with the hall light, the Finntroll logo on his chest was illuminated. His face was in shadow.

‘Dom!’ Stefan exclaimed, extending his hand. ‘Dory’s brought some wonderful news. You can stop worrying. The results were clear. You’re OK, all bar the infection.’

True,’ Dory added. ‘And that will clear up quickly now you’re on antibiotics.’

‘Shit!’ Dom said, and let out a breath. ‘Phew! Fuck!’ He continued his descent down the stairs, smiling shakily. He grasped the hand Stefan held out to him and joined the communal hug.

The night seemed unreal and blurry. None of them looked at the time. Eventually, after drinking all the beers from the fridge, Stefan went down to the cellar and found a bottle of champagne.

‘But we can’t drink that.’ Dory smoothed the thick coating of dust from the label. ‘It’s vintage. I didn’t even know you had a cellar.’

‘If we can’t drink vintage champagne on an occasion like this, when can we?’ He turned the cold, gritty bottle in his hands, slowly easing out the cork. He smothered the soft pop in a tea cloth. ‘As for the cellar … I don’t actually recall telling the estate agent about it. Does it add value … make the house more desirable, do you think?’ Stefan gathered the beer glasses. Dom’s was unused; he’d been drinking his beer straight from the bottle.

‘You really are a hopeless salesman.’ Dory shook her head at him as the champagne mixed frothily with the beer dregs in their glasses. ‘And you do realise that’s sacrilege?’

‘And do
you
realise,’ he said, smiling. ‘That I don’t give a flying fuck?’

Dory laughed. ‘Is there much in the cellar?’

‘You’re checking there’s another where this came from?’ he queried, lifting an eyebrow. ‘My father built up a bit of a collection. To be honest, I forget it’s there. Even if I do remember, I’ve no idea if it’s any good. But that Rioja I brought over for supper the other evening was all right, wasn’t it?’

‘
That’s
where you went,’ Dom said. ‘I wondered.’

‘Didn’t I say?’ Stefan raised his glass. ‘Cheers.’ His toast was echoed and they all sipped the champagne.

‘Seems all right,’ he said. Dory nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ll show you the cellar if you’re interested. The door to it is outside and I’ve a few sculptures … mainly casts, one or two resin pieces … and some moulds. I stored them amongst the vaults when I was clearing out the barn. Makes it seem a bit weird and gothic.’

‘Cool,’ Dom said, yawning. Whether he too was unaware there was a cellar, or had simply forgotten about it, was unclear. Just now, he seemed fairly unaware of anything; the large glass of champagne had been glugged down as swiftly as if it were pop. He wandered off, weaving slightly as he progressed in the direction of the kitchen. They heard the fridge door open and close, and then he was back, leaning against the doorjamb with a can of Coke in his hand. Giving him the champagne had almost certainly been a waste, Stefan reflected, but tonight, who cared?

‘You look out of it,’ he said.

‘Yeah. I’m totally wasted.’ Dom yawned again. ‘Need to crash.’

‘Good thinking,’ Stefan agreed. ‘You’ve got your college interview tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’ He grabbed at the door handle, as if to hold himself upright. ‘Fuck! No! It’s on Wednesday, isn’t it?’

Stefan checked his watch. ‘Which is tomorrow. It’s gone two, Tuesday morning. Print making in seven or so hours. I can’t miss another lesson.’

‘Shit! I didn’t realise it was so … I’m off. Give me a call when you get up.’ Then with a nod and a tipsy smile he nodded at Dory. ‘Thanks for everything. G’night.’

‘You’re very welcome. Sleep tight.’

Left alone, Stefan looked at Dory. ‘He’s only a scrap of a thing. Not surprising the alcohol goes to his head. I’m
so
glad you came straight here.’

The beer glass still in her hand, Dory flopped down onto the sofa. She returned his look and they raised their glasses to one another.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you. But my phone …’ She shook her head. ‘It was the final straw of a horrible, horrible, shitty day!’

‘But it’s ended well. And it started off all right, didn’t it? We got Dom to the clinic without mishap, and you …?’

‘Had no trouble persuading Shaskia to take a second blood sample for me. That bit went fine, and I should have had enough time to easily catch the train, but I hadn’t bargained on the difficulty of parking. The journey was quite pleasant once my heart rate slowed down. But when I got to Malcolm’s!’ Dory shook her head at the memory. ‘You’d think I’d have some visceral memory of attachment to the guy, wouldn’t you? Nothing. I actively dislike him. And her …!’ She amused him by putting her finger in her mouth and mimicking retching. ‘They were busy so I went out. Not that I’d have wanted to hang around with them. The rest of the day was spent walking round London. I felt so battered by it all. Not just the noise, but the traffic, the crowds! And the stale, dirty air, like it’s been in and out of thousands of pairs of lungs before you breathe it into yours! How could I have lived there for going on twenty years and not noticed?’

‘It’s the curse of humanity … its ability to adapt to the intolerable.’

‘Oh,’ she said, as if suddenly reminded. ‘I did manage to get some info for you about some modern art galleries in the Bond Street area. I took some pictures on my mobile and made notes.’

‘Bond Street?’ He let out a guffaw of laughter. ‘You believe in starting at the top, don’t you?’

‘Not Bond Street itself, those little streets around it.’

‘Even so!’ Instantly ashamed that he’d appeared to laugh at her ambition for him, he added, ‘But that’s very kind of you.’ She might be deluded, but it was a touching delusion.

‘Don’t thank me, I’m determined to get you noticed. Anyway, when I eventually got back, Malcolm didn’t even bother to mention he had the results already! He said he’d forgotten. Thinking about it now, I’m convinced he kept deliberately quiet. He didn’t want me leaving before he’d announced …’ Dory’s face suddenly crumpled. She covered it with her hand.

‘What’s the matter?’ Concern twisted his gut.

‘It’s nothing. It’s just …’ She breathed in. ‘He insisted we went out for this awful meal. I was tired and stressed, definitely not in the mood to socialise. To be fair, it was probably a fabulous meal. It was certainly expensive enough. But I’d be more grateful if I didn’t suspect they were simply showing off. It was so glaringly obvious that when I originally told them I was coming up to town, they planned the meal as the ideal setting for their grand announcement about … about …’