Read Three Button Trick and Other Stories Online
Authors: Nicola Barker
When Carrie drove her home, she didn't talk for the first ten minutes of the journey. She merely said, âCarrie. Leave me. I have to
digest
!'
Carrie left her. Eventually, after she'd digested sufficiently, Sydney said, âHe belched throughout the ballet. It was like sitting next to an old pair of bellows. Christ, the orchestra should recruit him for the wind section.'
Carrie's heart sank. âHe wasn't belching. He swallowed a toffee too quickly. It went down the wrong way. He kept apologizing.'
âAnd that fucking dog! His dead wife's dead fucking dog! Does he really think I'm interested in how they fed it a diet of fresh chicken to try and quell its chronic flatulence? Are
you
interested, Carrie? Huh?'
âNo.'
âPardon?'
âNo! No, I'm not interested. I'm not.'
âAnd I just can't believe â¦'
âWhat?' Carrie tried to keep her eyes on the road, but Sydney's expression â¦'
âWhat?!'
âThe two of you â¦'
âWhat?'
Sydney's eyes were glued to the road ahead. It was starting to rain. Carrie turned on the windscreen wipers just in time with Sydney's next pronouncement.
âFucking.'
Carrie said nothing. They both stared at the road. Eventually Sydney turned her eyes towards Carrie. âWell?'
Carrie said nothing. She focused on the road and the wipers and the rain and the way that the light from the streetlamps reflected in the drops of water on the windscreen before each harsh stroke brushed it away. Where do they go? She wondered. Where do those moments go? The rain falling in just such a way, the light, the wiper. Something there and then something gone.
Sydney found she was boiling. Not hot, but something
inside.
What else could she do? What else could she say? Carrie had closed down, shut up, like a clam. Sydney cursed herself. She was too impetuous. Too quick to judge. If only she'd tried to be nice, to be supportive. Maybe then Carrie might have provided her with some details. Something to ponder, to mull over, fat to chew on. Damn! Sydney crossed her arms, stared at the road,
boiled.
âI got your number from the book,' Heinz said.
âDidn't I give it you?'
âNo.'
âI should've.'
âShe didn't like me.'
âNo. Actually, I think she really hated you.'
âSometimes I can be overwhelming. It's a fault of mine. I know that. But I am simply myself. When you get old â¦'
âYou tried your best.'
âBut did I? One tends to forget how it is to ⦠uh ⦠to play the game.'
âNever mind.'
âCan I see you?'
âPardon?'
âTonight?'
Carrie rubbed her eyes with her spare hand. âI only just got in. It's raining outside â¦'
âTomorrow?'
Sydney lay on her stomach and rested the weight of her head on her hands. What was wrong? It was just ⦠she couldn't imagine. Carrie and that fat old man. My God! She just couldn't
picture
it. Not properly. Not graphically. She rolled on to her back. Couldn't imagine. But my Lord,
my Lord,
how she longed to!
Sydney stared at Jack's buttons. Jack pretended not to notice. Sydney sighed.
âJack,' she said, âyou haven't a hope in hell of winning me over with that old three button trick.'
Jack's eyes blinked and then widened. âWhat do you mean, ma'am?'
âNor that Courtly American Gentleman shite.'
Jack scowled. âWhat's the axe you've got to grind, Sydney?' he asked, not charming any longer.
âNo axe,' Sydney said. âI just thought you should know â¦' She paused. What did she want to say, exactly? Would she tell Jack about Heinz? She looked into Jack's face and knew that the notion of an eighty-odd-year-old man sleeping with his wife was hardly going to incite him to jealousy.
âIs it Carrie?' Jack asked.
âYep.' Sydney rubbed the corner of her eyes.
âYou look washed out,' he said.
âTired. Haven't been sleeping.'
âReally?'
Sydney uncrossed her legs. âCarrie's got someone new.'
Jack looked surprised. âAlready?'
âYeah.'
âWho?'
Sydney cleared her throat. âSomeone she's known for a while.'
âShe met them at the gym? Who is it? Do I know them?'
Sydney shrugged. âThat's not the point.'
âSo I do know them?'
âI didn't say you knew them.'
âAre they younger than me?'
Sydney squirmed. âI just thought â¦'
âWhy are you telling me this?'
Sydney picked up her briefcase. âNot for any reason, really.' She frowned and then asked out loud. âWhy am I telling you? I don't know.' She stood up. âThat three button thing you do', she said finally, âI just wanted to tell you that it's a real cheap trick.'
Half a bottle of Jim Beam later, it finally clicked. The only thing that made sense. Carrie was having an affair with Sydney. And Sydney was terrified of what exactly his response might be. She was intimidated by him. She was
threatened.
Naturally. And she'd really wanted to tell him too, to throw it in his face, debilitate him. Only then ⦠only then she just didn't have the nerve. That was it! Had to be. Carrie and Sydney. Sydney and Carrie. Wow.
âYou won't believe this, Sydney. Something so odd happened â¦' They were pulling on their leotards and tying up their laces.
âTry me.'
âJack rang. He left a message on the machine. He wants to drop by. On Wednesday.'
Sydney pulled the bow stiff on her lace. She straightened up.
âBut Wednesday!' she exclaimed. âIsn't that ballet night?'
Carrie looked uneasy, momentarily, like she didn't know quite what Sydney was getting at. âUh, yes â¦'
âSo you won't be needing your tickets?'
âI suppose not, unless â¦'
âSo I could have them both, maybe?'
âYou?'
âYeah. I quite got a taste for it the other night. How about it, huh?'
Heinz started when he saw her. He wondered whether Carrie had come with her but had popped to the Ladies for some reason, or to the bar. He squeezed his way over to his seat.
âHello there.'
Sydney looked up. âOh, hi. How are you?'
âNot too bad. Not too bad at all.'
He sat down, adjusted his position, pulled at his little bow tie which constricted him, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled from its depths a Cadbury's Chocolate Orange. He unwrapped the foil and offered the orange to Sydney.
âDark chocolate,' he said.
Sydney tried to pull off a slice but it wouldn't come loose. Heinz intervened, knocked at the chocolate orange with the centre of his palm and then offered it to her again.
âThanks,' Sydney said, smiling, showing him what fine, straight teeth she had and just how sweet and obliging she could be.
Jack had brought flowers. Lilies. Her favourites.
âLook, Carrie, I met up with Sydney the other day.'
Carrie was putting the flowers in water, but preparing each stem first by slicing an inch off the bottom at a sharp angle. That way, she knew, the flower could drink so much more.
âSydney?'
âYeah.'
âShe didn't mention it.'
âNo?'
Jack was actually relieved. He'd been worried in case Sydney might have blotted his copybook with Carrie by suggesting things about him, by exaggerating or maligning. Sydney could bitch with the best when she felt the urge. She was dangerous.
âLet me tell you something,' Jack said, leaning his back up against one of the kitchen cupboards.
âWhat?' Carrie was wide eyed and restless. What had Sydney said? Had she been indiscreet? Had she mentioned Heinz?
âI know what's been going on,' Jack said, âand I'm here to tell you that I don't care. I've given it some thought â¦'
âWhat do you know?'
âAbout you and Sydney.'
âWhat about us?'
He put out both his hands. âJust tell me,' he said, âthat it's over. Because my suitcase,' he couldn't hide his smile, âmy suitcase, darling, is lying packed in the boot of my car.'
âI'll tell you something else,' Sydney said, lounging on Heinz's sofa and drinking her fourth martini.
âWhat?'
Heinz was sitting on his comfy chair sipping a cup of tea.
âI went and saw Jack the other day, right? A private
tête à tête,
and he came into the café where we'd arranged to meet with the buttons on his coat done up all â¦' Sydney made a higgledy-piggledy movement with her hands, âlike so â¦'
âHe's missing her?' Heinz interjected, almost sympathetic.
âNo. Not at all. That's my point. It's the three button trick.'
“The what?'
âMen do it. Some men. To make them look â¦' she burped, âvul-ner-a-ble. And this is the best bit â¦' She put her hand over her mouth. âPardon me.'
âThe best bit?'
âYeah. Turns out, he only pulled that trick the very first time he ever spoke to Carrie. 1972. Outside the National Portrait Gallery. Took her in completely. Beguiled her, absolutely. And there he was, large as life, trying it on with me!'
âDid you tell her?'
Sydney knocked back the rest of her drink. âWho?'
âCarrie.'
âNope. Seemed a shame.'
Heinz nodded.
âNice flat,' Sydney said, looking around her.
âIt suits me well enough.'
âCome and sit over here.' Sydney patted the sofa to her left. âCome on.'
Heinz smiled. âI am perfectly comfortable where I am, thank you.'
Sydney stared at him, balefully. âWhat's wrong?'
Outside the sound of a faint car horn was just audible.
âNothing is wrong,' Heinz said, pushing his great bulk up from his comfy chair and walking over to the window. While his back was turned, Sydney unbuttoned the grey silk shirt she was wearing and took it off. Heinz turned and said, âI think that's your cab.'
âHuh?'
âOutside.'
âWhat cab?'
âI called for one a little while back.'
âA cab? Can't I stay here?'
âWhat for?'
Sydney started grinning but only half her mouth worked properly. âSex, stupid.'
Heinz picked up Sydney's pale silk shirt from the arm of the sofa and handed it to her. âI'm eighty-three years old,' he said gently, âand entirely impotent.'
âWhat's wrong?' Carrie asked, for the umpteenth time. âI can tell something's bothering you. I only wish you'd tell me.'
Sydney had still not yet quite recovered. It was Thursday night at the gym.
âNothing's wrong.'
She hadn't been sleeping. Her elbows were hurting. She couldn't stop thinking â¦
âI only got out of the house tonight because Jack's at a conference. I swore not to come here any more. He seems to have got the idea into his head that you're some kind of â¦' Carrie couldn't think of the appropriate word.
Sydney was staring at Carrie with an odd expression. Either Carrie lied, she was thinking, or Heinz lied.
âSo Jack doesn't know about Heinz yet?'
âNo.'
âWell, let's just hope he doesn't get to find out, either.'
Carrie shook her head. âI spoke to Heinz on the phone. I explained that I didn't want Jack knowing. He was so good about it.'
âKnowing what?'
âKnowing anything.'
Sydney smiled at this, and Carrie, for some reason, had cause, she sensed, to feel a sudden dart of disquiet. In her stomach. In her gut.
âI told you not to ring me!' Carrie exclaimed, terrified at the possibility of discovery.
âIs it safe to talk?'
âJack's in the bath. He's listening to the cricket on the radio.'
âYou know I miss you terribly. You know that, don't you?'
âHeinz, there's no point â¦'
âBut this isn't about that. It is about your friend, Sydney'
âWhat?'
âShe keeps calling around and she also keeps writing to me. She phones me â¦'
âSydney?'
âI just want you to talk to her. I simply want her to leave me in peace.'
âMy God. How odd.'
âI miss you so much.'
Carrie's cheeks glowed an unnaturally bright colour as she said goodbye and then gently placed down the receiver.
She waited until the last person had left the sauna. âCarrie,' she said, âI've done something I think you should know about.'
âWhat?'
âI had sex with Heinz.' She'd expected Carrie to blush or blanch. One or the other.
âWhat happened?'
âStraight sex. Nothing fancy.'
Carrie frowned, âI'm afraid I don't believe you, Sydney.'
âWhy not? It's true.'
âHe's impotent.'
âHe isn't. You slept with him.'
âI didn't sleep with him.'
âYou said you did.'
âHe's impotent.'
âSo what â¦'
âHe's in love with me. He'll do
anything
!'
Sydney stared at Carrie, confounded. Carrie was round and soft and lily white. She seemed peculiarly full of herself.
âSo let me get this straight â¦' Sydney said, wanting details so badly.
âHe just wants you to leave him in peace.'
âDoes Jack know yet?' Sydney asked, knowing she was routed and turning nasty.
âHe doesn't know.'
Carrie appeared unperturbed. Sydney shrugged. âBetter make sure he doesn't find out, then.'
Carrie only smiled.
âJack made a move on me, when we met up recently,' Sydney said. âHe tried that old three button trick of his.'
âWhat do you mean?'