A bleep suddenly comes from Luke’s jacket. He comes out of the bathroom, drying his face, and takes his phone out of his pocket.
“It’s a text from Venetia.” He looks at it and smiles. “Look. It’s a picture of this evening.”
I take the phone from him and study the display. There’s Venetia, dressed for off duty in long, rangy jeans, a leather jacket, and high, spiky boots. She’s gazing at the camera with a confident smile, her arm round Luke like she owns him.
Home-wrecker flashes through my brain before I can stop it.
Well, she’s not wrecking this home. No way. Luke and I have been through a lot over the years, and it’ll take more than some swishy-haired, spiky-heeled doctor to break us up. I’m 110 percent confident.
INTERNATIONAL OMBUDSMAN
BANKING AUTHORITY
Floors 16–18 Percival House Commercial Road London EC1 4UL
Mrs R Brandon 37 Maida Vale Mansions Maida Vale
London NW6 0YF
10 September 2003
Dear Mrs. Brandon,
I regret to inform you that your application to found an online bank, “Becky’s Online Bank for Girls,” has been turned down by the committee.
There were many grounds for the decision, in particular your statement that to run an online bank “you just need a computer and somewhere to put all the money.”
I wish you success in any further ventures, but suggest that banking is not one of them.
Yours sincerely,
John Franklin
Internet Business Committee
TEN
MAYBE I’M NOT 110 percent confident. Maybe just 100 percent.
Or even…95.
It’s a few weeks since Luke went out for that evening with Venetia, and my confidence has wobbled ever so slightly. It’s not that anything has happened, exactly. On the surface, Luke and I are as happy as ever and nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…
Well, OK. Here is my evidence so far:
1) Luke keeps getting texts and smiling and sending replies straight back. And I know they’re from her. And he never shows them to me.
2) He’s been out with her three more times. Without me. One time when I’d already arranged to meet Suze, he said he might as well use the evening to see some friends, and it turned out the “friends” was Venetia. Once with all the Cambridge gang at some big fancy dinner with their old tutor, where partners weren’t invited. And once for lunch, which was apparently because she was going to be “right by his office.” Yeah, right. Delivering a baby in an office block?
That was when we had our teeny row, where I said (very lightly), that wow, he was spending a lot of time with Venetia — maybe too much? Whereupon Luke replied that she was feeling low right now and needed an old friend to talk to. So I said, “Well, I feel low too when you go off partying without me!” And Luke said that meeting up with his old university friends had been the highlight of his year, and it was his chance to switch off and if I came along too, I’d understand. So I said, “I’d come if you’d invite me.” And he said he had invited me, and I said—
Anyway. We said a few things.
That’s all the evidence I have. I don’t even know why I’m calling it evidence — it’s not like I think something’s actually going on. I mean…it’s a ludicrous idea. This is Luke I’m talking about. My husband.
“I can’t believe anything’s happening, Bex.” Suze shakes her head and stirs her raspberry and apricot smoothie. She’s come over for the morning so we can do the gender predictor test, but so far all we’ve done is talk about Luke. Luckily the children are all in the living room, eating sandwiches and watching Teletubbies in a total trance (which Suze let them do only after I swore an oath never, ever to tell Lulu).
“I can’t believe it either!” I spread my arms wide. “But they see each other all the time, and she’s always texting him, and I have no idea what they talk about….”
“Did you stake your claim?” Suze takes a bite of chocolate-chip cookie. “Last time you saw her?”
“Totally! But she didn’t take any notice.”
“Hmm.” Suze ponders for a while. “Have you thought about going to another doctor?”
“I keep thinking about it. But I don’t think it would make any difference. She’s already made contact with Luke, hasn’t she? In fact, she’d probably love to get me out of the picture.”
“And what does Luke say?”
“Oh well.” I start fiddling with my straw. “He says she’s all lonely and vulnerable since she split up from her boyfriend. He behaves like she’s this poor tragic victim. And he always takes her side. I called her Cruella de Venetia the other day and he got really cross.”
“Cruella de Venetia.” Suze splutters cookie crumbs over the counter. “That’s good.”
“It’s not good! We ended up having an argument! She’s this…presence in our life, even though I never see her.”
“Don’t you have appointments with her?” Suze looks surprised.
“I have, but the last two times I’ve been to the clinic she was with a client in labor, and I got seen by one of her assistant doctors.”
“She’s avoiding you.” Suze gives a knowing nod and slurps on her straw, her brow furrowed. “Bex, I know this is a really dreadful thing to suggest…but what about looking at Luke’s texts?”
“I already have,” I admit.
“And?” Suze looks agog.
“They’re in Latin.”
“Latin?”
“They both studied Latin at university,” I say resentfully. “It’s their ‘thing.’ I don’t understand a word of it. But I wrote one down.” I reach in my pocket and unfurl a small bit of paper. “This is it.”
We both look at the words in silence.
Fac me laetam: mecum hodie bibe!
“I don’t like the sound of that,” says Suze at last.
“Nor do I.”
We both regard the words for a few moments longer, then Suze sighs and pushes the paper back toward me. “Bex, I hate to say it…but you should be on your guard. In fact, you should strike back. If she can spend all this time with Luke, then so can you. When was the last time you did something romantic, just the two of you?”
“Dunno. Not for ages.”
“Well, then!” Suze slaps the table triumphantly. “Go to his office and take him out for lunch as a surprise.
