Prudence

Ten minutes later Jack walked in clutching two enormous whiskies.

‘One each,’ he said, sitting down on the bed and removing his jacket. ‘I thought you might need cheering up. I certainly do.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Maggie. She hasn’t even got the energy to row with me. She just slops around looking broody.’

‘How’s work?’ I said, taking a slug of whisky. It tasted vile.

‘Tough. Plenty of orders, but no one’s paying us. My secretary and my wife are both suffering from pre- menstrual tension. My head is splitting from furiously banged doors. They’ve just opened a home for battered husbands in Manchester. I’m thinking of booking a room.’

I giggled.

Jack edged towards me.

‘What’s more important, how are you? Ace never lets me near you these days.’

‘He’s looked after me jolly well.’

‘The lady-killer with the lamp,’ said Jack.

‘I’m dying for a cigarette,’ I said, ‘I haven’t had one for nearly a week.’

Jack got out a packet of Rothman’s.

‘Do you think I dare? Ace’ll go bananas if he catches me.’

‘Oh he’ll be hours yet. It’s pretty inflamatory stuff he’s phoning through, from the bit I heard downstairs.’

The cigarette tasted fouler than the whisky. I started to cough.

Jack admired Rodney’s chrysanthemums.

‘Who sent those?’

‘My boss.’

‘Must have cost a few bob. Is he after you?’

‘No — more interested in my flatmate.’

‘And who sent that enormous rubber plant?’

I laughed, and coughed even more.

‘The Admiral. He wanted an excuse to come and see Rose. He barged in here this afternoon when I was half asleep. Imagine waking up and seeing his bright red colonial face peering through all that tropical vegetation. I thought I was hallucinating. Ace threw him out.’

‘Ace is getting much too proprietorial where you’re concerned. Not sure I like it.’

I took another tentative puff, and started to choke really badly.

‘Oh God, another nail in my coughing.’

Jack patted me on the back. Then his hand slid round my waist, pulling me towards him.

There is a moment when you decide whether or not you’re going to have an affair with a man. Pendle was gone. Jack’s marriage was in smithereens. He was extraordinarily attractive. We stared at each other for a long, sexy moment. I saw the lines of dissipation creeping round his merry, blue eyes. Not my line of country, I thought. Easy to get, but impossible to hold. He lacks that wintry detachment, that stripped bone quality that attracted me to Pendle.

‘You’re sweet,’ he said. ‘All work and no play makes Jack adulterous,’ and he leant over to kiss me. At that moment Ace walked in. With a swift glance he took in the clinch, the whisky and my cigarette smouldering in the ashtray. He hit the roof. He absolutely roared at us. I was terrified. Jack edged away from me. Ace grabbed my cigarette, throwing it into the wastepaper basket, and snatched my whisky from my hand, spilling a great deal of it over the kitten, who spat and took it in very bad part.

‘Do you want to have a complete setback?’ shouted Ace, his eyes blazing.

‘No,’ I said nervously, and started to cough again.

‘Look at you,’ he said. ‘Have you got some sort of death wish?’

‘She soon will have if you don’t stop bullying her,’ said Jack. ‘Did the Sunday Times like your piece?’

‘And you can shut up too,’ snapped Ace. ‘Of all the fucking irresponsible behaviour.’

Fortunately at that moment a diversion was caused by the wastepaper basket bursting merrily into flames.

‘Quick,’ said Ace. ‘Throw your coat over it.’

‘Why not your coat?’ protested Jack. ‘Mine’s just come back from the cleaners.’

I started to giggle. Ace grabbed the water jug beside the bed, and emptied it into the wastepaper basket, which flickered and died.

With an effort he gained control of himself.

‘I’ve just been talking to Pendle,’ he said. ‘He’s got a case in Devon that’s going to carry over into next week, so he can’t make it this weekend. I told him you weren’t well enough to travel anyway, so he’s leaving it until next weekend.’

It was as though I’d been reprieved. I put it down to the fact I wasn’t feeling strong enough to face Pendle.

There was a knock on the door and in walked Maggie. She looked beautiful, but definitely fat. All that misery eating, I suppose. She was wearing a black velvet dress with a cross-laced bodice, but her bust had got so big, the laces were almost horizontal with strain. She was obviously dressed for a party, and had dropped in to show herself off.

‘What are you all talking about?’ she said.

‘Pendle,’ said Ace evenly. ‘He’s not coming up this weekend.’

‘What a shame,’ said Maggie lightly. (I had a feeling she already knew.) ‘How disappointing for you, Pru. Are you ready?’ she added turning to Jack.

‘What for?’ said Jack.

‘Felicity’s party.’

‘Christ. Didn’t know she was having a party.’

‘I told you twice this morning, but you were so engrossed in your hangover. Are you coming, Ace?’

‘No,’ said Ace, picking up the empty water jug and going towards the door.

‘Oh, do you need a break after all that sick-bed attendance? Felicity’ll be frightfully disappointed. I’m sure she’s got half Westmorland coming, boasting you’ll be there.’

‘She’ll have to lump it. I never gave her a definite “yes”.’ He was still extremely tightlipped.

‘Oh well,’ said Jack, putting on his jacket and draining the remains of his whisky, ‘one may as well get drunk at someone else’s expense, rather than one’s own.’

The front door bell rang.

‘Who the hell’s that?’ said Maggie.

‘Probably Vatman,’ said Jack.

There were sounds of commotion downstairs. Then we heard feet pounding up the stairs, and a child’s voice saying, ‘Daddy, where are you?’

‘Jes-us,’ said Jack, ‘It’s Lucasta, I completely forgot she was coming.’

‘Oh God, so did I,’ said Maggie in carefully simulated horror.

No you didn’t, I thought to myself. One never forgets things one’s dreading — like the dentist.

The door burst open, and framed in the doorway, wearing a blond fur coat and jeans, was the most ravishing child. For a moment she stood looking at us — making her entrance — the image of Rose forty years ago. Then she shouted ‘Daddy!’ and threw herself into Jack’s arms. There was no question of their delight at seeing each other.

‘I’m going to be king in the Christmas play, because I’m tall,’ she screamed. ‘Jason White’s going to be Gold, I’m Myrrh, and Damion’s going to be Frankenstein.’

Only Maggie didn’t join in the laughter.

‘And I’ve got a wobbly tooth,’ she went on, opening her mouth and wiggling it for Jack’s benefit.

‘If you leave it under your pillow, the fairies might bring you 10p,’ said Jack.

‘The fairies left Jason White 50p last week. You can’t get anything decent with 10p,’ said Lucasta, wriggling