‘Oh right! That’s a relief. I was beginning to wonder would I have to jump on the next Aeroflot to London and get myself home and tell him to put his dukes up and fight it out,’ he said good-humouredly.
‘Ha! I don’t think it’s ever going to come to that with any man. If you saw how I looked now even you would flee. How’s Moscow?’
‘Raining, chilly, crowded and getting dark. What’s it like at home?’
‘It looks like a gorgeous day out.’ She yawned. ‘The sun is shining right in on my face. You know the way our room gets the sun in the morning. Not good in my present condition.’ She burrowed under the relative darkness of the duvet, with the handset.
‘How’s Colette?’ Niall enquired.
‘Herself,’ Hilary said drily. ‘She’s probably annoyed that I didn’t send Jonathan packing and devote the evening to her. You know what she’s like.’
‘Indeed I do. Go back to sleep for another hour and have a bacon sandwich when you get up and you’ll be fine,’ her husband said kindly.
‘I love you.’ She yawned again.
‘I love you too. Give my love to the kids. I’ll ring tomorrow. Same time. Bye.’
‘Bye,’ she said and heard the click as Niall hung up. She put the handset back in the cradle and turned on her stomach and pulled a pillow over her head and promptly fell asleep.
The phone’s jingle woke her again and a bleary glance at her clock told her that she had been asleep for more than an hour and a half. Her sister’s cheery greeting brought her wide awake. ‘Morning, Sis, hope you enjoyed your lie-in.’
‘Hi, I did, it was great. I’ll be over in the next hour or so,’ she said hastily, not wanting Dee to think she was taking advantage of her.
‘No need. I was ringing to ask if it would be OK for the kids to come to the pictures this afternoon and I’ll drop them back this evening?’
‘Are you sure?’ Hilary couldn’t believe her luck. What a treat to have a whole day to herself. Pity she was feeling so grim.
‘I’ve no choice. There’s great excitement – they were plotting it in bed last night. You know what they’re like when they all get together. I promised them McDonald’s as a treat afterwards because I’m a big softie, ha ha. So they’ll be fed.’
Hilary laughed. ‘You, a softie?’ she teased. ‘You’re as hard as nails. Are you sure though? Do you want me to come over and go with you?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no point in both of us having to endure an under-twelves!’ her sister retorted. ‘Make the most of the few free hours. I’ll get you back another time, don’t worry. You sound as if I’ve just woken you up. Go back to sleep, you lucky wagon. See you later.’
Hilary smiled as she hung up. Only another mother could truly understand how precious was a lie-in without children clamouring for attention.
Her stomach rumbled and she realized that she was feeling slightly better and peckish. Why was it that you were always hungry the next morning after eating Chinese? Hazy memories of the night before drifted back. Laughing at Jonathan’s wit. Colette not even trying to hide her irritation when she saw him sitting outside. Weaving her way to the fridge to get more wine. She couldn’t even remember going to bed. Had she even locked up, she wondered, flinging back the duvet, a frisson of anxiety penetrating her dehydrated fug. She vaguely remembered Jonathan saying goodbye but not Colette, she thought, brow furrowed, trying to remember as she went downstairs.
The alarm was on. The light was on in the porch. The lights were off everywhere else and the kitchen looked very tidy. That was Jonathan, she was sure. Colette didn’t do cleaning up, she had people to do it for her, Hilary thought guiltily, wondering what must Jonathan think of her, drinking like a fish and getting pissed.
Her bag was slung under a kitchen stool and she bent down and groaned as she hauled it up. She rooted for her notebook and found Jonathan’s number scrawled on the back of her notes. She should ring him and apologize, she thought, a tad mortified. She sat at the breakfast counter and dialled his number from the kitchen phone that hung on the wall. It rang for ages and she remembered vaguely that he had told her that it was a communal phone. He was probably out, she figured, about to hang up, when the phone was answered.
‘Hello?’ a muffled voice said.
‘Hi, could I speak to Jonathan Harpur, please,’ she said politely.
‘It’s me. I’m Jonathan.’ He sounded strange.
‘Oh. Oh hi, Jonathan. I didn’t recognize your voice. It’s me, Hilary. I just rang on the off-chance of finding you in, to say sorry that I got um . . . er . . . a bit tipsy last night. I’m not usually such a lush, in case I might have given you the wrong impression on our first date, so to speak,’ she explained hastily.
‘Oh! Hilary! That’s fine. No problem,’ Jonathan said, clearing his throat.
‘Are you OK? Are you under the weather too? You sound a bit weird.’
‘Umm. Yeah, I’m fine,’ he sniffed, and she sensed that something was up.
‘Sure you’re OK?’ she probed kindly, not wishing to be intrusive.
‘Yeah . . . no . . . no! Hilary, something happened and I just don’t know what to do.’ He burst into tears, unable to continue.
‘Hey, Jonathan. What’s wrong? Will I come over? I’ve a couple of hours free that I wasn’t expecting,’ she offered.
‘No, it’s OK, I don’t want to put you out.’ She could hear him gulping.
‘Do you want to
