The Real Thing (25 page)

‘Would Stephen’s father allow him to join us all here for a few days?’ Sebastian inquired.

‘I never know what Marcus is going to allow/ said Jody. ‘But if these three little girls are all such good friends, are they going to be happy with a strange boy suddenly foisted upon them?’

‘We should try it/ said Angela enthusiastically.

‘But we are talking as if Connie won’t be at your mother’s skiing/ said Henry. ‘Perhaps Easter would be better?’

“When are we all going to get married?’ Angela asked Henry.

‘Surely you should ask Sebastian. Jody and I thought of October.’

This linking of himself with Jody startled, so much had the two not been a pair this weekend.

‘October would suit me,’ said Jody.

Angela said to Sebastian, ‘You suggested October, didn’t you? But perhaps November? There’s Connie’s school trip. She’s going to France with her school’, she explained to the others. ‘There’s got to be time for dresses, that sort of thing.’

‘I didn’t know you were having a proper wedding,’ Henry said, put out. ‘If we all did something quick at the registry office, we can fit it in any time.’

‘What do you mean, a proper wedding?’ protested Angela. ‘Not the kind
we
had, but a wedding. I want Connie and Marion to be bridesmaids.’

‘Bridesmaids!’ said Henry, laughing.

‘Why not, they’d love it?’

‘I rather doubt whether my Stephen would love Henry’s and my wedding,’ said Jody. ‘So far he simply changes the subject.’

‘How did he handle your ex I mean, Marcus’s wedding?’ asked Sebastian.

‘When I asked him about it, he said it was all right,’ said Jody.

Henry laughed. So did Angela. Then, soberly, for Jody’s sake, Angela said, ‘But it is awful. Boys are so much more difficult.’

‘Particularly with that awful, ridiculous, unforgivable emotional training they get,’ said Jody. Her voice was now far from cool, and Henry reached out his hand, took hers, squeezed it. The two hands dangled there, between sofa and chair, but the discomfort caused them to fall apart.

Sebastian said, ‘We should discuss finance, too. I use this place with Olga. I should like to contribute.’

‘We can discuss all that,’ said Angela, and yawned.

“There’s also the business of Connie’s school fees,’ said Henry to Angela. ‘Did you get them paid in time?’ To the others he said, ‘Sony, but we have a lot of things to discuss.’

‘We haven’t seen each other for – how long has it been Henry?’

‘It’s been weeks,’ said Henry.

They had turned to face each other again. And they began again to talk about practical things, school fees,
holidays, mutually convenient dates. Should Connie perhaps change schools? There must be a room for Connie in Sebastian and Angela’s new flat, as well as the room for Marion. And in Henry’s and Jody’s flat too. And so on … Again it seemed as if the two were waiting for one set of words to be finished, to return another, in a close hard exchange, as if words were something tangible, an extension of the one who used them.

Throughout this weekend Sebastian and Jody had not allowed their eyes to meet in comment, but now Jody was looking steadily at Sebastian, and then he – slowly, as if determined not to evade a responsibility or an obligation – allowed his eyes to engage with hers. It was a long, sober gaze.

Again half an hour passed. Henry and Angela could not end this exchange of theirs, which continued animatedly, with exclamations, disagreements, agreements, suggestions … and then, a clock struck from the hall, and Angela leaped up, ‘Oh goodness, I’m going to bed, I’m dropping with sleep, oh Sebastian darling, do come up soon …’ She went out, waving at the three. But Henry followed her, and the two went up the stairs, talking hard all the way. Again the two left behind looked at each other, and went on looking, as they listened to Henry and Angela talking animatedly at the top of the stairs, until at last Henry went one way to the room he shared with Jody, and Angela the other to the room where Sebastian would shortly find her fast asleep.

A silence.

Jody said deliberately, ‘They talk like that,
they have to
, because they can’t make love.’

He coloured, but did not evade it. I have to say that this weekend I’ve seen things …’

‘Yes,’
said Jody.

‘I’m going to have a drink,’ he said, and it was evident
that this would enable him to turn away from her and her absolute determination he should share what she felt, and saw. Without asking her, he poured some whisky for her and put the glass into her hand. He almost did not sit down again, but then made himself: she needed so much that he should.

‘I think I’m going to leave early tomorrow morning,’ she said. ‘I might even sleep down here tonight.’

He was certainly startled. Then, still in the same way of making an effort to meet her, said, ‘Last night I don’t think Angela knew I was there at all. She was worn out, poor sweet.’

‘Well, yes,’ said Jody, intending him to understand she took this from a quite different point of view. ‘Anyway, I don’t think I can stand it,’ she said, tears threatening to engulf her voice. But she shook her head, took a gulp of her drink, and made herself smile.

‘I know one thing, you are making a decision when you’re very upset. That’s always a mistake.’

‘I didn’t say I was making a decision, I said I was leaving … oh, all right, then it is a decision. But I don’t think decisions made in haste are always bad ones.’

He said, ‘Perhaps it is not always an advantage to be so relentlessly full of insight.’ This sounded spiteful, and he added quickly, ‘Oh I’m not saying you aren’t right -but where does it get you? No, bear with me, I’ve been thinking about it – you’ve made me think. Am I going to be any better for seeing every little nuance..’ Her face said satirically,
some nuance
, and he nodded impatiently. ‘But perhaps I had taken a decision without knowing it
not
to see everything after all, I’m going to many Angela and we are going to be happy..’ This tailed off, it was a bad moment: it was occurring to him (of course it had long ago to Jody,
naturally
, he was thinking angrily) that if Henry didn’t marry Jody then there
would be all kinds of new adjustments, complications, new balances.

‘There’s one thing you don’t seem to see,’ said she. ‘Olga.’

‘Olga?’

‘You have Olga,
your best friend.’

He examined this, on its merits. ‘Yes, my best friend, and yes, you’re right, without Olga … yes, without her I’d find it all …’

‘All I have is Marcus. If you didn’t have your
best friend –
has she married again, by the way?’

‘No. Not yet. I am sure she would like to, but so far …’

‘You wouldn’t marry her again?’

‘Look, you don’t seem to … I love Angela. I know this weekend hasn’t been … but I don’t think you are giving it enough time. I certainly don’t feel about it all the way you do.’

A pause. ‘You certainly have a good time, you people.’

‘Wh-a-a-at?’

She contemplated him, as he sat there with his glass in his hand. Various little scenes from the past two days came back to her, and she contemplated them, too, taking her time. Her smile, when she spoke at last, was full of condemnation. ‘You are so pleased with yourselves! So -content!’

‘Content? You make it sound like a crime! Well, yes, I think I am content. I like my life.’ He looked at her, not long and slow, this time, only a quick glance, unable to stand the naked blaze of her unhappiness.

‘I’ve missed out,’ she said. “That’s what I’ve learned from you. I’ve missed out on the best relationship of them all. I don’t have a best friend – the ex-husband, the ex-wife.’ Her laugh was a squeal of misery.

He nodded, smiling, to acknowledge her wit.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He got up. ‘If I were you I’d think about it. Henry’s a good chap, you know. I’ve learned to know him well. He’s all right.’

‘Yes, another good friend.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I don’t know what to say except that…’

‘You’re sorry,’ she said finally. ‘And so am I.’

He went out and up to bed, and she remained sitting where she was.