‘He won’t get planning permission,’ said Lizzie.
‘Probably will, with all those bribes he offers. Tell James to absolutely refuse to interview any of the Planning Committee on “Cotswold Round-Up”. So embarrassing when Monica and I are such close friends.’
Valerie’s beady eyes fell on Lizzie’s purse. ‘Now what are you going to buy? I’m sure James likes beetroot slices in vinegar. I’ll give you a penny off.’
‘I’ll buy that coffee cake; it looks delicious. How long are you stuck here for?’ asked Lizzie.
‘Until four o’clock,’ said Valerie crossly. ‘Someone has to hold the fort.’
‘It’s the fort what counts,’ murmured Lizzie.
‘I fort you was never coming,’ said Freddie as he opened the door. In the kitchen was a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice and a huge plate of smoked salmon. Freddie had picked Rupert’s brains about seducing techniques.
‘The ideal picnic,’ sighed Lizzie. ‘I brought us some coffee cake for pudding.’
They stayed in the kitchen, in case they messed up the cushions poised on their points on Valerie’s settees. Briefly they discussed the franchise.
‘D’you think you’ll get it?’
‘I know we will,’ said Freddie. ‘Now let’s talk about us. I want to see a great deal of you, Mrs Vereker, but it won’t be easy wiv Tony Baddingham, an’ Valerie, an’ James breaving down our necks.’
‘James won’t be,’ said Lizzie.
‘Where is he at the moment?’
‘Inside Sarah Stratton, I should think.’
They both roared with laughter and, for the first time, Lizzie found she didn’t mind. She liked everything about Freddie, she decided — the way his eyes turned down at the corners, and his beer gut, and the damp patches under his arms because he was so nervous, and the way he smoked with his cigar between finger and thumb to eke it out, and coiled into the palm of his hand as though he was still hiding it from the foreman, who was probably now called Valerie.
As a writer, she told herself firmly as Freddie led her upstairs, one has to experience life. All the same she didn’t think she would have gone to bed with Freddie on that first day, and certainly not in Valerie’s bedroom, if she hadn’t found four of her favourite books in the spare room bookshelf, which she’d lent to Valerie when she’d had flu and which Valerie’d sworn she’d given back to Lizzie.
When they got upstairs Freddie initially seemed far more interested in showing off his gadgets — the eight- horsepower Jacuzzi and the bath which turned on by remote control and regulated the water from the bed, which was huge and oval, with its great dashboard of buttons at the head.
‘Shall we sleep in it,’ whispered Lizzie, ‘or hi-jack it and fly it to paradise?’
‘You do say the loveliest rings,’ said Freddie, drawing her close. His paunch slotted in below her splendid breasts, so it was very easy for them to kiss.
‘What music would you like?’ asked Freddie.
‘Brahms’s Second Piano Concerto,’ said Lizzie.
Next moment, incredibly, it flooded through the room. ‘I must have a pee first,’ said Lizzie, wading through the shagpile to the bathroom.
‘I’ll get undressed,’ said Freddie.
Lizzie washed herself with Valerie’s flannel, but not too much, in case she rubbed away all the lubrication. She wanted Freddie to know how excited she was. For a second she examined the lips of her labia, just peering out of her bush, like a wrinkled old tortoise, then shoved them inside. How could men possibly find women beautiful down there? Would her opening be prettier than Valerie’s? she wondered.
Coming out, she opened the wrong door and nearly went into the linen cupboard. Goodness it was tidy, as though it had been laid out with a set square. Adultery certainly taught you about other people’s houses. She expected Freddie to be completely undressed by the time she got back, but he had so much jewellery to remove that she beat him to it.
‘I’ve dreamed and dreamed of this moment,’ said Freddie as he stretched out beside her. ‘Ever since we first met at that ‘unt ball, eighteen monfs ago. I fort, what a lovely lady.’
‘I’m so fat,’ sighed Lizzie.
‘You’re not,’ said Freddie. ‘It’s much more fun climbing Everest than the foothills.’
Lizzie put her hand on his cock. ‘And it’s so nice to see software becoming hardware.’
‘And I’m going to declare this an area of outstanding natural beauty,’ said Freddie. Reaching for his glass of champagne on the bedside table, he emptied it into her bush and proceeded to lick it all off. After Mousie’s fragility, he reflected as he climbed on top of her, it was like having a wonderfully sturdy cob between your thighs.
‘I hope you’re using a Condom Perignon,’ mumbled Lizzie half-laughing and half-crying with pleasure as he entered her.
Brahms’s Second Piano Concerto was her favourite piece of music, but from then on she forgot its existence until the last ecstatic bars of the final Allegretto.
‘You’re absolutely perfick,’ whispered Freddie. ‘You’re the big fing in my life now.’
‘I love you,’ said Lizzie.
‘And I love you,’ said Freddie.
Afterwards they had another bottle and ate all the coffee cake, and longed to make love again, but decided it was too risky. To establish an alibi, Lizzie then went shopping in Cotchester, so drunk and happy she could hardly get the clothes back on the hangers. Coming out of the chemist, having bought a huge guilt present of Aramis for James, which she thought she might give to Freddie, she heard a car tooting.
Not being vain, she didn’t even turn round when it went on tooting, and only did so when Tony Baddingham lowered his electric window and yelled out to her.
Keeping her mouth tight shut so he wouldn’t catch the champagne fumes, wondering if he could see the words ‘adulterer and traitor’ branded on her forehead, she edged towards him.
‘You’re looking great,’ said Tony smoothly. ‘Really great.
Must have been a good holiday. What have you been buying?’
‘Scent for James,’ said Lizzie.
‘How very nice,’ said Tony. ‘And it isn’t even his birthday!
You’re a good wife, Lizzie. Look forward to seeing you on Saturday week.’
‘Saturday?’ said Lizzie, bewildered.
‘Sarah Stratton’s dinner party,’ said Tony. ‘We’ll have a good talk then.’
Back at Lake House, Lizzie rushed upstairs, washed off all her make-up and scent, removed the nail polish from her toes and got into her old clothes in case James came home early. Fortunately he was very late, so she was able to watch almost the entire production of
‘Funny goings on at Venturer,’ said James in a pleased voice, pouring himself an uncharacteristic drink the moment he got in. ‘Evidently Cameron’s pushed off to Ireland with Declan, and I’ve just seen Bas coming out of the Bar Sinister with Maud.’
Funny goings on everywhere, thought Lizzie dreamily, what with James and Sarah, and her and Freddie, and Rupert probably still hankering after Taggie. It was as though they’d all been affected by Puck’s mischievous witchery like the mortals and Titania in
‘I am the mistress of a very nice man,’ wrote Lizzie ecstatically in her diary before she turned out the light.
41
