Rivals

‘They’re both so tricky and self-willed,’ grumbled Janey. ‘Hello.’ She beamed up at an Italian waiter who was utterly mesmerized by her brown breasts which seemed to squirm in her low-cut pink dress like day-old puppies. ‘Neither of us wants to work this afternoon, so let’s kick off with duo enormo vodkos et tonicos, then we can get wildly drunk and indiscreet. You are lucky not having to worry about schedules and costings any more,’ Janey added, as the waiter floated back to the bar. ‘It must be bliss being supported by Rupert.’

‘He’s not very pleased with me,’ confessed Cameron, pleating the tablecloth. Then she told Janey about the weekend.

‘Darling,’ said Janey, taking a hefty belt of vodka, ‘get one thing straight. It’s not you. I told Helen yonks ago that she never need worry about Rupert marrying again because no one would take on Tab. She’s adorable until she suspects anyone might take Rupert away from her, then she’s Catherine de Medici crossed with all the Borgias! Mind you,’ Janey went on, plunging a cauliflower floret deep into a bowl of mayonnaise, ‘Tab hasn’t had it easy. Helen tries to be fair, but it’s obvious to anyone that Marcus is the Granny Smith of her eye. She’s never got on with Tab.’

‘Marcus is a really nice kid,’ said Cameron. ‘Why’s Rupert so mean to him?’

‘Jealousy. Rupert and Helen were going through one of their many bad patches when Marcus was born. Helen lavished all her affection on Marcus. Rupert started lavishing all his affection on show jumping and other women. It doesn’t help that Marcus looks just like Helen, and Rupert doesn’t want any reminders of her around him any more.’

‘But Marcus just longs for Rupert’s approval.’

‘I know,’ said Janey. ‘It’s really sad. Just as Rupert used to long for Helen’s approval, but she always dismissed him as a handsome hunk and show jumping as a very second-class occupation.’

As the waiter wheeled up the hors d’oeuvres trolley Janey’s eyes fell lasciviously on Mediterranean prawns, stuffed aubergine and oeuf a la Russe.

‘Go on,’ urged Cameron. ‘It’s my treat.’

‘What are you going to have?’ asked Janey, as the waiter piled up her plate.

‘Just cold salmon and a radicchio salad.’

‘Oh, that sounds nice,’ said Janey. ‘I’ll have that next, and lots of white wine.’

‘What was Helen like?’ said Cameron, trying not to sound too interested as a second besotted waiter helped them to Sancerre.

‘Oh, a sweet old thing really, but very earnest and high-minded, not like us.’ Even grinning with her mouth full of tarragon-flavoured mushrooms, Janey had all the charm in the world, thought Cameron. The ‘like us’ seemed to unite them in a conspiracy of naughtiness and fun.

‘Did she love Rupert?’

‘Ish,’ said Janey. ‘She always disapproved of him. Mind you, he was disgraceful in those days. But underneath all that stunning self-assurance and sex appeal, and lack of introspection, he does need the clapping. He wouldn’t be so competitive if he didn’t. He’s so macho, what he really needs is some very gentle, calm, submissive girl who thinks he’s absolutely marvellous.’

Like Taggie O’Hara, thought Cameron savagely.

‘Goodness, I shouldn’t have eaten all that,’ said Janey later as she put her knife and fork together. ‘But I suppose I can make the excuse that I still haven’t got my figure back after the baby.’

‘Has Tab truly fought with all Rupert’s girlfriends?’ asked Cameron.

‘Well, he turns them over so fast it’s hard to remember,’ said Janey. Then, catching sight of Cameron’s face, she added quickly, ‘But I’m sure it’ll be different now he’s met you. They liked Beattie Johnson, I think, but she was such a slut, she never imposed any regime on them, and never minded if they were frightened of the dark and wanted to get into Rupert’s bed. The more the merrier as far as Beattie was concerned. I’m amazed they got any sleep with her drunken snoring.’

Knowing both Janey and Beattie Johnson had pages on national newspapers, Cameron suspected an element of professional jealousy.

‘What d’you figure I should do about Tab?’ she asked despairingly. ‘Rupert’s planning to have her over every weekend this summer.’

‘He won’t,’ said Janey soothingly. ‘He’ll get distracted. But actually I think you ought to go back to work. You’re far too bright to hang about all summer brooding about Tab and being Rupert’s concubine.’

‘It’s so hard,’ said Cameron. ‘I’ve had plenty of offers, but all from companies in other parts of the country, and I don’t want to leave Rupert. I’ve been offered loads of freelance work too, but nothing that grabs me. I guess you’re right, I must do something.’

‘You probably miss the bustle at Corinium, and Tony Baddingham too. I’ve always thought he was very attractive in a dark satanic way.’

‘We were together for three years,’ admitted Cameron. ‘He had his moments, but he was a devil.’

‘That forked tongue must have made him very good at oral sex,’ said Janey wickedly.

Cameron laughed.

Having hardly touched her lunch, she put her knife and fork together. Leaning over, Janey forked up Cameron’s salmon and, wrapping it in a paper napkin, put it in her bag.

‘D’you mind if I take it home for my cat, Harold Evans? He’s fourteen tomorrow and he loves salmon as much as he hates London.’

While Cameron was in London with Janey, Rupert went over to The Priory in an attempt to melt the dangerous froideur that seemed to have developed between him and Declan.

Declan, however, seemed enchanted to see him. Switching off Brahms’ Fourth, and making a heavily gin- laced jug of Pimm’s — ‘Just the kind of focking English upper-class drink you would like!’ — he took Rupert out into the garden.

‘Is that the new puppy’s work?’ said Rupert, noticing a shredded bedroom slipper on the lawn and the flattened flower beds.

‘I’m afraid so. He’s been re-christened High Claudius, as he rolled on onspeakable fox’s crap yesterday, and, roshing in, leapt all over Professor Graystock who’d dropped in to drool over Taggie! At least he got rid of the Professor double quick — so he does have his advantages! It’s all right,’ he added hastily, misreading the sudden bootfaced expression on Rupert’s face, ‘he’s a dear little dog — we all love him. Caitlin’s taken him and Gertrude for a walk.’

He poured the Pimm’s into two pint mugs, then put the jug in the shade under a nearby chestnut tree. It was another glorious afternoon. Grasshoppers scraped like toy violins in the long grass, a marbled white butterfly basked on a cushion of thyme. Through the silver trunks of the beech trees they could just see Rupert’s cornfields turning gold. Even the birds were silent, worn out with feeding their young.

Declan stretched out. ‘It’s days like this that make that terrible long winter seem worthwhile. D’you know we’ve been here for nearly a year?’

‘Here’s to many more,’ said Rupert, noticing how tired Declan was looking again. ‘How’s the book going?’

‘All right, except that I’m constantly disturbed by my wife and daughter screaming at each other.’

‘Taggie screaming?’ said Rupert in surprise.

‘Never Taggie. Maud and Caitlin. Maud’s menopause appears to be coinciding with Caitlin’s adolescence. I’m thinking of calling in the International Peacekeeping Force.’

‘I could have done with them this weekend,’ said Rupert, swotting an ant. ‘My children were staying. Tab and Cameron were like weasels at each other’s jugulars. Why can’t women get on with each other? Men never fight.’

Declan laughed. ‘I’d never have cast Cameron as Mary Poppins.’

Idly they discussed the franchise. Declan had recruited a very good girl from Yorkshire Television as Head of Children’s Programmes. Then, heavily prompted by Rupert, he confessed he was desperately pushed again for money.

‘Have you spent all that thirty-five thousand already?’ said Rupert disapprovingly. ‘You shouldn’t keep sloping off to grope Maud in the Lakes.’

‘I know, but I’d been working flat out and she’s so restless. And I’ve just paid a massive tax bill and Patrick’s fare to Australia and Caitlin’s school fees for last term. And I’ve never seen anything like the electricity bill. Talk