A Question of Love (9 page)

‘Well, that sounds a bit…risky, Fliss. I wouldn’t neglect him…’

‘Baby love, my baby love…
‘

Over the monitor we could hear Hugh crooning to Olivia as he changed her nappy.

‘I need you, oh how I need you…
‘ We could hear her giggle and gurgle.

‘I mean, he’s a good-looking man, Fliss.’

‘But all you do is treat me bad…
’

She laughed. ‘Oh Hugh’s
far
too straight-laced to stray.’

‘
Break my heart and leave me sad…
’

‘Anyway, who’d
want
him?’ she added as she lit the hob. ‘He’s not even
earning
. He just sits in the shed all day.’

‘
Do be doo, be do be doo, ‘cause baby love, my baby love…
‘

‘Well, the baby books all say that you should make a fuss of your husband.’

‘
Been missing ya, miss kissing ya…
‘

Felicity gave me an odd little look. ‘How do you know
what
the baby books say?’

‘Well…I…’ I nodded towards the bookshelf. ‘I’ve looked at that
Baby Whisperer
book of yours—I love reference books—and it advises new mums not to ignore…
that
side of life.’

‘
Do be do be do do be do be do do da da do be do do be do be do…
‘

‘I don’t know Laura,’ she sighed. ‘I find sex perfectly easy to live without—I don’t miss it at all.’

‘
I
do,’ I said dismally as I laid the table. ‘I haven’t had so much as a cuddle in three years.’

Felicity got down three glasses. ‘Well that’s just plain
crazy
! I’ve always said you should have looked for someone else.’

‘How could I? I was too depressed, plus I had zero self-confidence—and who’d have
wanted
me? With
my
baggage?’ I concluded bleakly.

‘Well, yes, I admit that your situation hasn’t been…great. But, look, what about your boss?’ she asked as she poured the dressing into the bowl. ‘Every time he picks up the phone when I ring you at work, I can’t help thinking how nice he sounds—or maybe I’m just mesmerized by his gorgeous voice.’

‘No, Tom is nice. And he does have a lovely voice, that’s true. I’m so used to hearing it, I don’t often think about it.’

‘Where does he come from?’

‘Montreal. The English-speaking part, though he’s lived here for ten years now.’

‘What about him then?’ I shook my head. ‘Don’t you like him?’

‘Not in that way.’

She began to toss the salad. ‘You mean you don’t find him attractive?’

‘No. It’s not that, because he
is
attractive. Very attractive actually.’

She dribbled in some more dressing. ‘What does he look like?’

‘Well…he has a boy-next-door kind of charm. Brown hair, receding slightly; large blue eyes, medium height, medium build. He’s a bit like Tobey McGuire.’

‘And do you think he likes you?’

‘God, I don’t…know. I don’t suppose he’s ever
thought
of me in that way. He’s…fond of me I guess, but that’s all.’

‘He was good about Nick, wasn’t he?’ She put the top back on the French dressing.

‘Yes, he was. He was a real…rock. And we’ve worked together for six years now—right from the start—when it was just him and me, so we’ve a very good professional rapport.’

‘Then why not make it a personal one too?’

‘Well, because a) he’s my boss, so it could be extremely awkward and b)—and you are
not
to repeat this—‘

‘I promise,’ she said seriously.

‘- he did something pretty awful, a few years ago. I’ve never told you before, out of loyalty to him—but the fact is that although he
is
wonderful in many ways I find it…off-putting.’

Felicity’s eyes were like saucers. ‘
What
did he do?’

‘He left his wife—’

‘Oh,’ she began to toss the salad again. ‘So
what
? That happens all the time. You can’t hold
that
against him, Laura. You
do
tend to be judgemental, you know.’

‘- a month after their baby was born.’ The salad servers stopped in mid air.

‘Oh. I see. That
is
awful.’ She pulled a face. ‘The poor woman.’

‘Quite.’

‘Did he have some sort of crisis about becoming a dad?’

‘No. He just left her for someone else.’

‘God…’

‘It was in the gossip columns.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘Because the woman he went off with was Tara McLeod.’

‘The actress?’

‘Yes. She’d had the main part in that drama-documentary we made about Helen of Troy—that’s how they met. The affair didn’t last long, but it was curtains for his marriage. But because Tara was up and coming then, there was a bit of press interest, and one or two of the pieces mentioned how devastated Tom’s wife, Amy, was.’

‘But the papers print all sorts of rubbish, so how do you know it was true?’

‘Because a) I saw him and Tara together a number of times, and b) his own sister told me. She was in London not long after that—she’s a non-executive director of the company—and we had lunch together, the three of us; and while Tom was away from the table she just started talking about it, as though she wanted to explain.’

‘She was probably a bit embarrassed.’

‘I think she was. She said she assumed I knew about him leaving Amy, so I said I did, and then she just shrugged, and said that it had been a “
coup de foudre
”. So I guess he must have developed some sort of fatal attraction which skewed his judgement.’

Felicity got out a bottle of wine. ‘Leaving your wife for another woman when she’s just had your child is just about as skewed as it gets.’ I thought, as I often have done, of how incongruous it seemed that someone as decent as Tom could have behaved so badly. But then—as I know only too well, because of Nick—the ‘nicest’ people can surprise you in the most terrible ways. ‘And does he have any contact with his child?’ Felicity continued.

‘I don’t think so. His wife divorced him then went back to Canada, so whether he ever sees his child on trips home I don’t know. He never mentions him, and he doesn’t have a photo of him in his office, so I suspect the answer is no. But…it’s affected how I view him—on a personal level at least.’

‘Well, I don’t blame you for not getting too close. Just keep it as it is, warm, but strictly business-like.’

‘That is what I do. In any case I find it hard to think of Tom—or anyone at work—in anything other than a professional way.’

Now, as Felicity rummaged in the drawer for a corkscrew, I thought how odd it is that I should spend so much of my waking time with my colleagues, yet know so little about how they live. I know that Dylan has a girlfriend who’s a producer on
Richard and Judy
; I know that our production assistant, Gill, is engaged. I know that Sara’s boyfriend’s a teacher, and that Nerys lives alone in Paddington, with a couple of budgies. And I know that Tom left his wife a month after the birth of their child.

‘Is there anyone else you might be interested in?’ I heard Fliss say. She handed me the bottle and I started to peel off the thick metal foil. ‘I’m inviting a very eligible man to the christening by the way.’

I looked at her, appalled. ‘Please Fliss,
don’t.
‘

‘I taught his daughter some years ago.’

‘I don’t
want
you to.’

‘I bumped into him again recently in Portobello and he told me he’d got divorced.’

‘Especially not at a family occasion.’

‘He’s called Norman, and he’s a stockbroker.’

‘It’s not
appropriate.
Oh this damn foil won’t come off.’

‘Sorry, but I’ve already invited him.’

‘Why?’

‘Firstly, because I’ve invited loads of people, so it won’t matter if he’s there too and secondly—and this is the main reason—because I want you to
meet
someone.’ She looked at me. ‘Laura, in June you’ll be thirty-five. I want
you
to have the chance of a family. I want
you
to know the bliss of being pregnant.’ I shifted on my chair. ‘I want
you
to experience the joy of knowing that a baby is growing inside you—
your
baby,’ she added with evangelical fervour as I struggled with the metal foil. ‘I want
you
to know the indescribable happiness of holding your baby for the first time…’

‘Shut
up
, will you Fliss! Oh shit!’ Blood was suddenly seeping from my index finger. ‘Now I’ve
cut
myself!’ I wailed. ‘Just stop lecturing me will you and get me a
plaster.
‘ I wiped away an angry tear.

‘I’m sorry to be so forthright, Laura,’ said Felicity quietly. ‘But I can see I’ve touched a nerve.’

‘No you
haven’t.
It’s just the shock. I
hate
the sight of blood!’

She wrapped a wet tissue around my index finger and it instantly became tinged with crimson. I felt sick.

‘I’m sorry I upset you, Laura.’ Felicity put her arm round me, and I felt my anger subside. ‘But I just want you to be happy,’ she said softly. ‘Look how hard it was for me to get pregnant—who’s to say it wouldn’t be hard for you too?’ My stomach lurched with dismay. ‘I don’t want you to miss out on this wonderful area of life—and that means you’ve got to meet someone
soon.
Haven’t you?’ she insisted. ‘I’m only trying to help you.’

I looked at her. ‘Well…maybe I don’t
need
your help.’ I peeped at the cut. It had almost stopped bleeding.

‘Why not?’ Felicity tore open a Band Aid. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe I already
have
met someone. You see, something extraordinary happened yesterday…’ And now, as Felicity applied the plaster to my finger, I told her about my encounter with Luke.

‘
Luke
?’ she exclaimed with a smile. ‘Oh I
liked
him—well, we
all
did, didn’t we? I mean, he was such
fun
.’ She pulled the cork out of the wine bottle and poured two large glasses. ‘He always had some snippet of useless information or other up his sleeve—I can still remember some of them—what was it?—oh yes, that a hippo’s breast milk is pink—I’ve never forgotten it—and that Virginia Woolf wrote all her books standing up. Yes…’ she nodded delightedly. ‘Luke was great. I’m
thrilled
you’ve bumped into him again. What happened before was…a pity.’

‘You’re right. Finding him in bed—or rather bath—with someone else
was
a pity.’

‘That’s true—but then, come on, Laura, he
was
very young. You both were.’ She sipped her wine. ‘And it was only a one-night stand wasn’t it?’

‘That’s what he claimed. But I felt as though I’d stepped on a landmine—everything seemed ruined—I couldn’t deal with it.’

‘You might have been able to now. Our perspective changes as we get older.’

‘I suppose you’re right. And after what Nick did, there’s not much I couldn’t cope with. But that wasn’t now—it was then.’

‘And this is
now
…’ She gave me a meaningful look. ‘This is a second chance, Laura. A
second chance
, to ignite an old flame—so you must absolutely grab it with both hands. You’ve waited long enough. Emotionally, you’ve been…frozen, but now you must get out there, and…seize the day!’ Funny. That’s just what Tom had said. ‘
Carpe diem
!’ Fliss added gaily. ‘So, tell me—were there any sparks?’

‘Well, yes. I’d often wondered what would happen if Luke and I ever met again—and now I know. The chemistry was
just
the same. Except that he’s now a separated man with a six-year-old daughter and I’m a…’ I swallowed. I always find it hard to say.

‘And you
are
going to see him again, aren’t you?’ said Fliss. There was a pause. ‘
Please
tell me you are, Laura.
Don’t
be tricky. I
know
you.’

My heart looped the loop.

‘I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night.’

THREE

On some TV quiz shows there’s a degree of preparation in the way the questions are asked. On
Mastermind
, for example, John Humphreys will say; ‘In classical music, what does the term “Legato” mean?’ rather than, simply, ‘What does “Legato” mean?’ Or he’ll say, ‘History; and when was the Diet of Worms?’ rather than, just, ‘When was the Diet of Worms?’ This gives the contestants a split second in which to tune into the next subject and prepare. But on
Whadda Ya Know?!!
they don’t have that luxury—they just get the questions—boom, boom, boom. ‘Of what was Hecate a Greek goddess?’ (The Underworld); ‘What is the alternative name for a wildebeest? (A gnu); ‘Which line of latitude provides the border between North and South Korea?’ (The 38th Parallel); ‘Which river runs through the Peak District?’ (the Dove). We do it that way because it’s harder, and because it adds to the tension and pace. As I walked up Ladbroke Grove to meet Luke on Friday night a similarly rapid inquisition formed in my mind. ‘Did you cheat on me more than once during our two years together? How many girlfriends did you have after that? Is your wife pretty? Is she clever? Is she successful? Why did you break up?’

‘Don’t look so serious, Laura!’ There he was, standing on the corner of Kensington Park Road, outside E & O. He kissed me on the cheek, then held his face for a moment against mine, and, again, I felt the old familiar longing for him stirring. I had once loved him so much. As we walked into the restaurant I felt the light pressure of his hand on my back. It made me feel elated.

‘At first I misheard you,’ I said, as we were shown to a quiet table in the corner. ‘I thought I was being invited to the E
N
O for a bit of opera.’

‘We’ll do that next time.’ I felt my face heat up with pleasure at the notion of a next time. ‘Okay?’

I suppressed a smile. ‘Maybe.’ I glanced around the monochrome interior, with its blond floor and dark lacquered wooden screening. ‘This is cool.’