I nodded in agreement as I left with the children, but knew this was thin. Angie had a huge drawing room. And quite a few noses would be out of joint. Ours was a small village. Oh, to hell with them, I thought, as I let myself in. Jennie was right. We had to be just a little bit selfish occasionally. And the Americans would certainly inject some glamour.
As I went into the kitchen, the answering machine was flashing. I pressed it absently as I lowered Archie from my hip, watching him toddle off to his playpen, clamouring to get in. It was pretty much his favourite place these days. Wasn’t it supposed to be a prison? Would a child psychologist tell me he felt safe in there, or something heart-stopping? As I lifted him inside, a deep male voice politely asked me to make another appointment, whenever it suited. Nothing drastic, but something had cropped up and he wondered if I could pop in and talk about it. Sam, the solicitor.
Well, obviously it had been a while since a deep male voice had asked me to do anything, politely or otherwise, surrounded as I was by women and children. But had there been any need to ring back immediately? Before I’d even taken Clemmie’s coat off? I got through to Janice, who made me an appointment. When I got off the phone, I moved around the house feeling lighter, brighter somehow. More energized. I went to the window to smile out at the day. Yes, that’ll be the Americans, I thought. That’s what’s put a skip in
13
On Monday night at choir practice I thought we were going to be lynched. Three people on the way to church told me it was outrageous they weren’t allowed to join, particularly since we’d allowed the Armitages; and once I’d achieved the church and was in the choir stalls, Sylvia told me she’d even moved her bridge evening.
‘We decided Wednesdays were much better,’ she told me firmly, turning round from the pew in front. ‘So I’ll read Angus’s book when he’s finished and see you there. We thought one copy between the two of us would be fine.’ Sylvia was notoriously tight.
‘No, Sylvia, I’m sorry,’ Jennie butted in beside me – Sylvia had pointedly addressed me, not her – ‘we’ve reached our limit. Otherwise the group is too large and people feel intimidated. They won’t pipe up.’
I doubt if Sylvia had ever felt intimidated in her life, particularly when it came to piping up. I also doubt whether anyone in the village had ever stood up to her. Her left eye began to twitch manically and she looked fit to burst her tubes. Happily Saintly Sue was tapping her lectern importantly, reminding us we’d be singing at the real thing soon so it had better be good, and Luke was flying through the door, so Sylvia didn’t have a chance to come to the boil. But I saw Angus, who’d been studying his brogues during this little exchange, glance up to give Jennie an admiring look. Whether he’d be allowed out to play with the rest of us now was, of course, debatable. I had a feeling he’d be in his carpet slippers, toying gloomily with his cauliflower cheese in front of
As Luke bounded boyishly up the steps to the organ, blond hair flopping, he flashed me a grin and I smiled back. Smiled, though, not glowed. And as Angie and Jennie either side of me exchanged a delighted glance, like proud parents – one they clearly thought I didn’t notice – I hoped I wasn’t going to disappoint anyone. He was nice. Very nice. And good- looking too. So perhaps it was just the fact that he was always late and then basked self-consciously in the tiny spotlight this afforded that annoyed me? Or maybe he was genuinely busy and lost track of time? At Peggy’s I’d liked him more, I decided, as he played the opening chord in a dramatic manner. We’d perhaps even had a moment as we’d chatted over a glass of wine by the darkened window – which, let’s face it, was a far more conducive environment than this one. The organ didn’t help, this chilly, damp church didn’t help, and as we all launched into the Gloria and Molly into ‘Nights in White Satin’, I knew that didn’t help either.
After choir practice, I found myself walking out of church alone. Angie and Jennie were up ahead discussing dishes Jennie was making for Angie’s freezer, when Luke materialized beside me.
‘Hi.’ He pushed his fringe out of his eyes.
‘Oh, hi, Luke.’
I’d been looking in my bag for some money for Frankie. I hated rooting around for it while she stood waiting; liked to have it ready, so the transaction was swift and clean, prey as I was to the usual ridiculous middle-class hang-ups about paying anyone to work for me. As he wheeled his bike beside me, I eyed it warily. Hm. Now admittedly it was just a common or garden pushbike, but one thing could lead to another and before you know it he could be head to foot in blue Lycra.
