‘We’re not into gourmet tripping any more in the States,’ said Berenice. ‘I just ask people to drop around and take pot luck.’
‘And then dump another quart of water in the lentil soup,’ said Jimmy Batten, spreading butter thickly on a roll.
Berenice looked at him in disapproval. ‘You don’t realize what white flour does to you, James. It amazes me the garbage you British eat. Ivan was living on hamburgers when I met him. No wonder he nearly had an ulcer.’
‘When’s your new book coming out?’ said Jack.
‘In January. It’s being translated into fifteen languages.’
‘It ought to be translated into English first,’ said Ace.
‘Oh starp, sweetest, starp,’ said Berenice, laughing. ‘He’s so vile about my literary style. Being an academic, I’m afraid I’m used to writing for an optimum intellectual readership. You know I can’t believe I’m in Ivan’s home town at last.’
‘We can’t quite believe you’re here either,’ said Jack. ‘We’re going to need at least four bottles, Ace.’
‘Such a relief going into a restaurant where I’m not known,’ said Berenice. ‘In the States I can’t cross the street without being mobbed.’
She’s utterly poisonous, I thought.
‘Cheer up, darling,’ whispered Jimmy Batten in my ear. ‘How’s Pendle?’
‘He’s coming up on Saturday to collect me,’ I said.
‘Not going very well?’
I shook my head.
‘Thought as much.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Still after Maggie? Poor old you. I should have warned you when we met in London. Maggie looks terrible too. I’ve never seen such a deterioration in anyone. She used to be
The dinner seemed to go on for ever. I had to force myself to get any food down, taking frequent gulps of wine. Ace was talking to Jimmy Batten about delinquency in New York. Berenice was going on and on about Jack’s unimaginative life style. ‘You ought to cut out that nine to five shit,’ she said, waving a cauliflower floweret in the air, ‘and get in touch with the universe.’
‘I can’t really cut it out,’ protested Jack. ‘I’ve got two households to support.’
Now Berenice was rabbiting on about her last husband. ‘I wanted an open living relationship based on trust and growth, and all he wanted was his jockey shorts ironed. I mean we weren’t coming from the same place
‘And Ace doesn’t expect you to do his ironing?’ said Jack. Suddenly I felt his ankle rubbing up and down against mine.
‘Oh, starp. Don’t make comparisons,’ said Berenice, putting one of her lovely sunburned hands on Jack’s arm. ‘Ivan is just terrific. He gives off this incredible togetherness, it’s beautiful. We have these terrifically productive dialogues, sitting around for hours rapping.’
‘Surprised you don’t find him too forceful,’ said Jack.
‘Well he’s a Leo of course,’ admitted Berenice. ‘They’re very big on macho tripping, but he’s trying to overcome it.’
For a second I met Ace’s eye, found myself blushing and looked away.
‘I was a big star, of course, when I met Ivan,’ Berenice went on. ‘But my life was empty. I needed a whole, loving, caring environment, where I could be totally committed. You’ve no idea the creases he’s taken out of my mind.’
‘So Ace is the one who’s doing the ironing,’ said Jack, gravely.
Berenice didn’t flicker. She was not to be deflected. She was in such full flood she didn’t even notice when Jack rolled a tonic bottle across the table towards me. Inside on a bit of paper he’d written ‘Help’.
I took it out, and wrote ‘I love you’ on the back, and rolled it back again. It was a comfort that he thought her as silly as I did. But she was certainly mad for Ace. She’d reached the stage now when she couldn’t bear not to touch him. Her free hand strayed now to his hair, now to the nape of his neck, now to his thigh.
Then she decided I needed bringing in and asked me what I thought of Northern Ireland, but my mouth was still full of dry, unswallowable chicken, so I just shook my head, and she said she thought people’s capacity for outrage in this country was amazingly dulled.
Then it was Maggie’s turn. She was wearing the shirt Ace had brought her from the States.
‘I’m so glad you’re wearing that shirt, Margaret. Ivan and I must have gone to a dozen shops to find the right colour.’ Then she turned to Ace, licking him on the ear. ‘And you’ve no idea the free gift I’ve got for you later darling,’ she said huskily.
I couldn’t bear any more. I could feel the sweat rising on my forehead, it was so hot.
‘Must go to the loo,’ I muttered, wriggling round the table, and scuttling across the restaurant.
When I came out I found Jimmy Batten.
‘I’ll take you home,’ he said.
‘Oh, please.’ I felt sick and giddy, very near to tears.
‘I’ll just go and tell everyone.’
‘Could you just get a waiter to tell them after we’ve gone?’
I couldn’t face Ace at the moment.
The snow was thickening as we drove home, settling in the arms of trees and on the tops of walls and gates. As we reached the end of the village, and started on the road up to the Mulhollands’ house we passed a large notice, saying: ‘Unfenced Road, beware of animals.’
‘It’s not the animals you have to beware of round here,’ I said bitterly.
‘It’s not Pendle any more, is it?’ said Jimmy Batten.
‘Oh God, is it that obvious?’
‘Only to me. I could never understand what a larky girl like you could see in Pendle. He’s like a synopsis. Ace is a whole book.’
‘Is it a very big thing, him and Berenice?’
‘’Tis for her. She talks a lot of crap about L.T.R. — Living Together Relationships as she calls them — but she’d do anything to get him up the aisle. I guess he’s the one who’s putting up the sandbags. He’s not ready to marry anyone yet.’
‘What’s so marvellous about her?’ I said dismally.
‘Superior muscle tone, darling. She’s a very ballsy lady. She’s terrific in the sack. She used to be a girlfriend of mine. I couldn’t cope with the neurotics, but maybe Ace can handle her.’
‘I see,’ I said listlessly.
‘Poor little Pru.’ Jimmy put out a hand and touched my cheek. ‘You haven’t had much luck with the Mulhollands, have you?’
After he’d seen me upstairs he said, ‘I’m leaving at crack of dawn tomorrow. I’ve got a case in Birmingham. Ring me when you get back to London. I’ll buy you dinner.’
I got into bed and read the same page over and over again. Then I got Pendle’s photograph out of my top drawer. It was tattered and creased from being hawked around in my bag for so long. It was as though I was looking at a total stranger. How could I have ever loved him? Beside Ace he seemed a complete shadow.
It was after midnight when I heard them coming home. The snow was six inches deep on the windowsill. There was a knock on my door. It was Ace. He came and sat down on the bed.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you felt bad? I’d have brought you home.’
‘You were otherwise engaged,’ I said bleakly.
He looked at me in silence, the tassels of the bedside lamp fretting a shadow across his left cheekbone.
‘You looked miserable all evening. I was watching you.’
‘I hope you learnt something,’ I snapped, shifting my legs irritably. Next moment Pendle’s photograph had fluttered down on to the floor. Ace picked it up and looked at it for a minute.
‘I see. Have you been talking to Jimmy?’
‘Yes,’ I said tonelessly. What did a thumping lie matter now? ‘Seeing him brought the whole Pendle thing back.’
