"I keep him in the cellar," said the Marquise, "don't you think, my dear, that's
generally the best place for men?"
She laughed a happy silvery laugh, affectionately patted her young guest on the rosy cheek and continued:
"He sits there restrained and thus totally helpless and the mere thought that I can do whatever I want with him keeps me aroused throughout the day. When I visit him I wear only black and scarlet. And I always bring something sweet for my sweet prisoner. Whatever men say – they all have a sweet tooth. Slowly-slowly I take my clothes off while I approach him and then cover myself with honey or whipped cream. He can only watch – his eyes glistening in the dark. Yesterday I brought some apricot jam with me: it happened to be his favourite. You wouldn't believe what his tongue…"
Apricot jam, Elisabeth thought, I have some at home. The question is how I can use it.
Elisabeth wasn't referring to some type of refined gratification. She was thinking about making a dessert for tomorrow's dinner with her friends. The reason why Elisabeth was less concerned with the fascinating delights of the Marquise than with her coming event, laid in her nature: she was as pragmatic as a grim realist. By the way do you know this anecdote of a pessimist, optimist and grim realist? So, a man visits his GP complaining that his penis doesn't take upright position any more.
GP-pessimist (gloomily): Yes, I see what you mean… And it also hangs very lopsidedly, doesn't it?
GP-optimist (very brightly): Yes, you're right! But look how gorgeously it dangles!
And finally:
GP-grim realist (impolitely): So? You didn't come here for bonk, did you?
"No, jam won't be any good", Elisabeth thought, "let's say, quinces, yes, quinces, soft meringue and for the base, I guess, some sort of shortcrust pastry."
So the desert was settled but not the rest of the meal. To get some inspiration the girl finally parted both with her cosy sofa and with the book she was reading (by the way its name was Marquise LeRui's Love Lessons). She went into her small but cleverly organised kitchen and opened the door of her fridge-freezer. A bunch of dill sprung at her out of it. Not being prepared for such an attack, she stepped back hastily and tripped over Terry the Cat who followed her in the vain hope to get a second dinner or at least a modest, well, adequate or rather biggish snack. Terry wasn't her cat. He was her mum's but mum was away and Elisabeth catsat for her. Terry didn't mind as long as she cared for him properly, that is, gave him good food and a lot of it too.
Sitting on the floor next to her dill Elisabeth tried to decide whether or not she had sprained the ankle. Finally she came to the conclusion that she hadn't, after which she unceremoniously pushed Terry who had already snuggled against her knees and was fast asleep away, stood up and examined inside of her fridge in order to find the herb a proper place. While squeezing it into the fridge's door between a carton of milk and a bottle of barbeque sauce Elisabeth thought about her friends and their regular parties.
It all started last winter. It was a cold wet nasty February full of dull grey rains, a murky mood and the 'flu. Actually the 'flu was the reason why Elisabeth, instead of rushing home after work to Corrie, its dark secrets, gruesome revelations and failed weddings, took a train to Brighton to see Mary. Mary worked there in the Royal Sussex County Hospital but the more important thing was that one of her colleagues invented some ointment which helped magically against all sorts of acne. And that was what Elisabeth needed desperately. Like virtually everyone around her she had recently caught the 'flu which passed surprisingly fast but as a reminder left her with ugly red spots covering her forehead and chin. For two weeks Elisabeth tried all the possible and impossible means to get rid of them but without any result. Well, she had one consequence: she became nearly four hundred quid poorer. Still she was desperate, she was between boyfriends at that moment and her face in the mirror firmly assured her that she had as much chance wooing Mister Right or Mister Wrong as England winning next World Cup. No make-up however lavishly applied could hide her red glowing chin and her new hairdo with a long and mighty fringe didn't become her at all. Mary was her last hope.
"No fear!" Mary said when they discussed the problem over the phone. "She'll help you – she's a real wizard. And after she'll fix you we will buy some fish and chips, go to my place and catch up on the last year. Or is it two?"
"Two." Elisabeth said rather shamefacedly. "And you've forgotten that my stomach doesn't accept any junk food."
Mary and Elisabeth became friends at primary school. Then Mary's parents moved but surprisingly enough the girls stayed in touch through all the school years. After school they began to drift apart. Mary took a University course and Elisabeth didn't. She was too pretty for her own good. At first she tried herself in modelling – unsuccessfully – then for a couple of years she dreamt about conquering Hollywood but all she got were two or three episodic roles in some obscure British productions. Those years were hectic, hungry and full of new people who were sometimes freaky, very often dull and almost always useless. Yet at least one of them wasn't and with his help Elisabeth unexpectedly landed perhaps not a very glamorous but steady job. Actually there was a lot of glamour around her as she became a stylist in the most posh hairdressing salon in London.
"I don't cook." Mary said with dignity. "When I work, I eat… what I eat and when I don't work I visit my parents."
"I will." Elisabeth said resolutely.
While thinking of that Elisabeth shifted the stuff inside her fridge making her mind up about the main course. In the end she decided to cook her friends Beefsteaks a la Parisien.
Mary's colleague was a brisk and efficient Asian woman. She asked Elisabeth a few professional questions, mostly about her general state of health and allergies, then opened the cupboard above her desk, took out a big porcelain jar with some cream-like substance and with a spatula separated a small amount of it into a plastic envelope. The stuff was terrifyingly brown and had the most revolting smell. Looking at Elisabeth's dubious face she unexpectedly smiled and said in her broken tingly English:
"You'll see the difference after the first application and after four you won't find a trace of these nasty spots."
The future proved that she was right.
Outside her office Elisabeth looked at the cream with disgust and sighed. Then she said:
"Off to you then?"
"Don't kill me, please." Mary mumbled.
Elisabeth rounded her eyes.
"Why? What have you done?" she said. "You're not contemplating a sex change again?"
"I'm serious. You remember my friend Kitty, don't you? Today she is going round Lydia's, some girl who works here too, and Kitty sort of thinks that I'm joining them."
"Oh!" That was all Elisabeth said, just one word, just one tiny "oh" but it was a very icy-cold and warning kind of "oh".
"No, really, let's go to Lydia's together. She won't mind especially if you're still willing to cook. She's fun too but it's not that. You see she has this neighbour who can predict the future. Lydia says she's absolutely amazing!"
"What, tarot-reading? Or does she have a crystal ball?" Elisabeth grumbled trying to look cross.
In reality she was intrigued. Everyone wants to know their future, especially when you're young, between boyfriends and look a total mess.
"No, she does it with coffee." Mary explained.
"Never heard of anything like that!"
"It's something oriental."
"Must be good then. They used to know a lot about magic and stuff."
"Kitty's heard from Lydia that this woman does it very rarely. But if she tells you certain things then you can be sure that they will happen sooner or later."
"Must be good…"
(In her flat Elisabeth smiled to her memories and then wrinkled her eyebrow trying to decide on the starter.
"I can treat them to some really nice fish", she thought, "after all I don't have a house warming party every day.")
"Are we going then?" Mary asked cautiously and when Elisabeth nodded gave her a big delighted hug. Then she let her go and waved to somebody behind Elisabeth's back.
Elisabeth turned around and made a very unpleasant discovery. She knew Lydia.
Although more than ten years had passed since when she last saw her Elisabeth could remember that day as though it was yesterday. Perhaps the reason for that was that the circumstances weren't common. Judge for yourself: she, Elisabeth, was lying on the floor looking at Lydia over the slightly hairy bum of a certain boy while Lydia was standing on the door threshold with half of the girls from their year behind her back. Lydia's eyes and mouth were open wide and her face was white with rage. Almost as white as her Valentino dress.
Elisabeth got to know Lydia at sixth form at the all girls' private school where she was awarded a bursary. She wasn't bright academically and there was no question of her passing the tests with a good enough result for getting the place yet she got it. There was no big mystery in how that occurred: Elisabeth cheated. At first she was absolutely thrilled about her achievement but after a month or two in the new school she began to regret her actions. Remorse had nothing to do with it, Elisabeth was simply miserable there. All the girls from her year belonged to one or another friendship group but no matter what they preached it was Lydia who ruled the roost. She was a real queen bee and nobody wanted to mess with her.
It was impossible to explain why it happened but Lydia hated Elisabeth from first sight. True, Elisabeth was very pretty but there were girls at the school who were really beautiful yet they didn't irritate Lydia at all. Elisabeth was witty and lively but she wasn't a leader and certainly no threat to Lydia who had wealthy parents, classy clothes, an elegant appearance and excellent scholastic results. Nevertheless Elisabeth soon found herself as a victim of daily bullying. Whatever she did, said or wore was ridiculed and scorned. Her clothes were branded as "Oxfam fashion show" and her educational progress didn't help either. After each of her poor performances Lydia told anyone who was willing to listen: "That's where taxpayers' money goes. We pay for some dimwits get a brilliant opportunity to fail all the subjects."
The best thing to do was to change schools but Elisabeth's parents were so proud of their daughter attending a posh public establishment that they would never let her do that. So Elisabeth carried on.
Her biggest humiliation came in the Spring Term of the Upper Sixth. Once every two years there was an organised event: a so-called Gym and Dance Display which in spite of its name offered the students to show their talents in many different fields. Dancing and gymnastics though remained the main. That year the Upper Sixth decided that their contribution to the school production would be a fashion show. The most energetic girls called some famous firms which promised to lend them some items from the summer collections while many young hopefuls queued for the audition to walk down the catwalk. Elisabeth who a long time ago decided to become a model and not just a model but a supermodel was one of them. She had everything for at least a school fashion show: the height, the correct figure and it's no wonder that she was at first short-listed and then chosen to be one of the lucky seven performers. Then the clothes arrived and they were wonderful. For the girls who came like Lydia from the well-to-do families they were probably just some other garments but for Elisabeth they were something out of this world. The ones she was supposed to wear were certainly the best. Absolutely magical!
And magical they turned out to be. Because when the great moment came Elisabeth couldn't find her rail. The other six were there and only hers was missing. Fortunately for her she spent all the time after classes with their Head of Year so at least nobody could accuse her of stealing. But it was a very meagre consolation. When the other six girls excited and gorgeous returned one by one from the stage Elisabeth bit her lip to stop herself from crying.
By the way Elisabeth's clothes were found in pristine condition the following morning.
Towards the end of school Elisabeth remained unhappy and almost ostracised. She didn't even want to go to the farewell party but at the last moment changed her mind: she was a fighter.
All the girls were bringing their boyfriends. Most of them were from the neighbouring all-boys' school and knew each other. For the past two years Lydia was steadily going out with one of them. He wasn't something really exciting from Elisabeth's point of view but all the other girls thought him absolutely dreamy: he was the captain of the school's rugby team, he was also rolling in it and knew a few five-syllable words. He naturally accompanied Lydia to the ball.
Elisabeth was already very popular with the male part of humanity but she invited to the party not her current boyfriend but her best mate. She knew that in case of further embarrassment he would be far better comfort and support.
And indeed he was. When he first saw Elisabeth's tormentor who approached her with the words: "Nice dress! Which flea market did it come from?" it was he who showed Elisabeth a simple but effective way of revenge. His plan was to humiliate Lydia in front of the whole school with the assistance of her boyfriend. They waited until the rugby hero had had a sufficient number of drinks and then started to put their plan into action. The most difficult part was to separate him from Lydia but even heroes have to go to the toilet from time to time. They ambushed him, then lured the guy into some empty classroom, where he willingly shared half a bottle of vodka with them, after which Elisabeth's friend evaporated.
"I'm so happy that I'll never have to go to school again!" Elisabeth said. "Isn't that great?"
With a slight stutter Lydia's boyfriend admitted that that was great.
"Let's drink to that!"
He was in such state that he would drink to anything. So they had another drink or two after which Elisabeth dropped down to the floor and he followed her. He was beyond comprehension yet willing to do what he thought Elisabeth expected from him.
Actually she hoped very much that she would be able to skip that part but for her plan to work she helped him to take off his jacket and the lower part of his clothes. She also allowed him to deal with some details of her outfit and while he unskilfully touched her with his hot trembling fingers she looked with great expectation at the door which fortunately opened before Lydia's boyfriend went into the final offensive.
Behind the door was Lydia informed by a well-wisher where to find her guy. The girl who brought the remarkable news got the information from Elisabeth's mate together with at least a dozen other girls. Elisabeth's mate was fast and efficient.
…The look in Lydia's eyes told Elisabeth that in spite of the past years she hadn't forgotten anything.
"This is Elisabeth," said Mary excitedly, "and you know what? She promised to make us a nice supper. She's a wonderful cook! Once for my birthday she made… Elisabeth, what did you call those stuffed peppers?"
"Stuffed peppers." Elisabeth said curtly.
"Hi, Elisabeth!" said the girl accompanying Lydia, Elizabeth guessed that that was Kitty. "I love it when somebody cooks for me. Unfortunately it happens very rarely."
"Good evening." Lydia said sourly and avoiding Elisabeth's eyes added. "If everyone's ready let's move."
Least of all she wanted Elisabeth joining their company but she wasn't going to explain to the others the reason for that, she had no intention to revive an old story of a stolen boyfriend, the boyfriend whose very name she couldn't remember now even for a pair of new Chanel sandals. Neither she was going to admit that she let some miserable creature like Elisabeth do that to her. The only thing which really pleased Lydia was her rival's pimples flourishing in abundance on her face. The sight mollified her enough to agree with Elisabeth's presence for the whole evening.
Lydia lived on the seafront not far away from the hospital so she normally walked to and from home. Kitty and Mary on the other hand had to drive to reach the hospital but after a fruitless discussion over whose car they would take this time they decided to leave both in the hospital car park. Elisabeth didn't feel at all comfortable and in order to hide her embarrassment all the way to the Lydia's place she told anecdotes. Mary laughed like mad, Kitty looked at Elisabeth with adoring eyes and even Lydia smiled once or twice coldly. She thought that time had changed her old adversary to the better, she became more articulate and less aggressive and although she was still frightfully common her spots made Lydia much more tolerant to some of Elisabeth's other flaws.
"One more!" Kitty demanded.
"Well…there was this medical student who was going to have his own practice and earn hundreds of thousands in the future but so far he was broke. He found a very cheap room to rent in an old farmhouse but trying to cut the price down even more he asked the farmer whether or not there were mosquitoes in the area. I can't stand them, he said. The farmer who was already fed up with him offered him a deal: he would tie the student to the old oak-tree in the yard overnight and if a single mosquito would bite him, the farmer would let his room free of charge. Hoping that he would get at least one mosquito's bite and strike the bargain the student willingly agreed. Early in the morning when the farmer came out from his house to the yard he saw the poor guy in a horrific state: pale, swollen and looking half-dead. Oh dear, said farmer, I honestly thought that we didn't have mosquitoes here. It's not mosquitoes, said the student weakly, it's your calf. It decided that I was its mum!
"Please," said Mary choking with laughter, "stop!"
"No way!" Kitty interrupted her. "Tell us one more."
"What about?"
"Anything. Whatever you want."
"Medical students again?" Elisabeth asked slyly.
"Yes, please!"
"OK. So there is a lecture in a big auditorium in the medical school when suddenly somebody runs into it shouting: "Smith's died!" All the girl-students immediately leave the room without asking for permission and the highly surprised professor follows them. He sees the naked body lying on the table in the morgue, then looks at his member, says "Oh my!" cuts it off and brings it home in the glass jar. There he addresses his wife: "My dear, look what a sample!" His wife takes a look, goes pale and shouts: "Smith's died!""
This was the last anecdote they had time to hear as they had gotten to Lydia's house. She had a very nice place in one of those beautiful buildings which made Brighton so charming. Tall, white, with long windows it looked proudly and composedly over the sea: blue and glorious in the summertime, rough and dirty grey now. Elisabeth didn't have the opportunity to see the entire flat during her first visit: only the kitchen and the sitting room. The former was big and dark while the latter had a very nice shape and seemed to be rather empty. A corner cabinet, a long coffee table, a couple of two-sitters and a few armchairs were all the furniture in the room of at least 40 sq metres. Elisabeth's own tiny lounge was simply stuffed with different bits and pieces and she thought that it looked much cosier than that palace-like parlour. All the things including the rug on the shining parquet were obviously very expensive and stylish yet not only Elisabeth but also Mary and Kitty seemed to feel much better in the kitchen.
"Don't think that I'll slave for you while you sit around smoking, sipping your wine and relaxing." Elisabeth warned the girls seeing that Mary got a pack of cigarettes out of her handbag."
Mary was a rather heavy smoker but of course the hospital's policy didn't approve such things so she could only smoke when not working.
"You'll wash all of this and then cut it." Elisabeth continued speaking to Mary. "Lydia, do you have cheese? Great! Kitty, you have to grate some for me and, Lydia, do you think I can look around your cupboards, perhaps I'll find something inspirational."
All she found was milk and a piece of rather stale baguette, a dozen eggs, a big earnest looking marrow and some other insignificant stuff. Yet she managed to create a real feast.
She made what she called "tasty omelette" and French toast, she cut the marrow into thick slices and grilled them. Sprinkled with dry mixed herbs, covered with cheese and left for a couple of minutes in the hot oven for the "finishing touch" it produced a simple yet very delightful snack.
When Lydia's neighbour, an expert in coffee-reading, came they'd already finished their meal, had a drink or two and didn't need Elisabeth's anecdotes any more to giggle all the time. The neighbour whose name was Jane looked at them with some envy and said with a heavy sigh:
"Sometimes I wish I were single again."
"I'm not single!" Kitty said with dignity.
"Join the club!" Jane said darkly. "Kids?"
"A beautiful boy." Kitty answered proudly. "He's five and he's the most intelligent and handsome and sweet and intelligent boy."
Her speech was slightly slurred.
"That's twice intelligent." Mary said not very comprehensibly either.
"Yes, he's very intelligent." Kitty agreed.
"Ladies, I think, it's time for coffee." Jane said.
She brought her own coffee-pot with her, it looked like a retired Colonel of the British Empire covered with scars, distinction marks, yet honest and reliable. The coffee she made was aromatic and very strong. When they finished it Jane commanded the girls to overturn their cups and leave them to dry on the saucers. Elisabeth felt a tingle of excitement.
"Who's first?" Jane asked and Lydia said firmly: "Me!"
As Elisabeth learned that day Lydia had been trying for some time to get close with one of the male colleagues and finally got a date with him on Saturday. Well, not a real date, he didn't invite her anywhere yet but Lydia was full of hopes because under a false pretence she managed to entice him to her place. She told him that she had a copy of Il Bidone which she didn't have but knew where to get it. Jane's husband was a real Fellini fan and Lydia hoped that even if he didn't agree to part with his precious movie Jane would nick it for one evening.
By the way one old proverb, probably Latin as most of them are, says: "Tell me what's your favourite food and I'll tell you who you are". Lydia's favourite dish is Lamb Kidney Délicieux. Does that tell you anything about her character?
"How interesting," said Jane after some meditation over the coffee-cup's bottom, "you're heading for a new love affair."
"Yes!" Lydia said with feeling.
"You're going to have a lot of trouble with him." Jane continued. "I see too many women …"
"Many women?" Lydia exclaimed crossly. "Dirty swine! He looks so innocent, almost virginal. I spent nearly two months dancing around him before I dared to make the first move!"
"Then it's not him."
"What?!"
"Now I see it clearly: you haven't met him yet, but don't worry, you will and very soon too. It looks like somebody you've known for a long time will introduce you. As for the young man from your work place, forget about him. Nothing will come out of it."
"But he's so cute!" Lydia wailed.
Elisabeth thought that it was her turn to go next but Kitty was faster. It didn't do her any good as Jane didn't find anything exciting in her cup.
"Sorry," she said at the end, "maybe next time."
"That's OK." Kitty said gloomily. "I'm a happily married woman and I don't need all your mumbo-jumbo anyway."
"Although," she added a bit wistfully after a short pause, "some teeny-weeny romance would be nice. You know, I'm really, honestly happy. I love my husband and the sex is good but sometimes I remember how it was before we got married and I miss that time. Flowers, funny little presents…"
"Telephone conversations." Jane continued. "My husband used to call me at least ten times a day when we were dating."
"Mine too." Kitty said. "I'm not saying that he's completely inattentive now but sometimes I just feel like having somebody serenading under my balcony."
"You don't have a balcony." Mary hurried to remind her but Kitty didn't reply.
"You know what I like most of all in relationships?" Elisabeth joined the conversation. "Making love for the first time."
"I don't!" Lydia said. "You don't know much about him and what's even more important: he doesn't know anything about you: what you like and how you want to start and which way you prefer to end. No, I would say: second time. Or even the third."
"I don't mind sex," said Mary while the others greeted her statement with wolf whistles and stupid remarks like "Really?" and "Good girl", "but I think that there are more precious things. Like when you have just met somebody nice. I simply love that first glance and first smile. And when you realise that he likes you as much as you like him. And you flirt and try to do your best to make him like you even more. And how you spend the best part of the day in front of the mirror preparing for your first date with him."
"Oh my God," Lydia interrupted. "I always get a spot on my nose right before my first date. It's a rule. I can't remember a single first date with any really attractive guy that I haven't had my own very special beauty mark."
Kitty sighed noisily and stared at the floor to avoid her eyes meeting Elisabeth's, on the contrary Mary gave Elisabeth commiserating glance but Lydia brushed away their emotions:
"Don't mind her! She'll be alright, she's tough. I know her from school, she's always been tough."
"You really think so?" asked Elisabeth looking very pleased. "You were tough too."
"Yes." Lydia admitted proudly. "We were two tough bitches. And I don't mind you having f***ed my boyfriend…what was his name? But promise me that you won't f*** him ever again."
"I promise." Elisabeth said solemnly, Kitty and Mary stared at two of them open-mouthed and Jane took Elisabeth's cup without even asking who was next.
By the way Elisabeth's favourite dish is Green Soup. It's a very simple but absolutely delightful dish. For it you need some sorrel which isn't easy to get but if you live in the countryside you can always pick it in the fields or better go to the local Polish shop and obtain it from there in a small glass jar under the name Schav or something very similar.
"That's one naughty cup," Jane said studying, "looks like you're going to sleep with brothers."
"She doesn't have brothers." Mary whispered with some awe.
"Not my brothers, you perv!" said Elisabeth.
"No, not her brothers." Jane verified.
"Brothers?" Elisabeth asked thoughtfully. "I don't know too many brothers. There're two cousins though: they work with me but I've always thought that they weren't straight. Their girlfriends never visit us, they don't flirt with any of our female clientele despite the fact that some of them are real sex-bombs."
"Elisabeth's a hairdresser." Mary explained. "She works at the Maxim's."
"Get out!" Lydia shouted. "No kidding? I desperately need to do something with my hair. I look terrible!"
"OK." Elisabeth said enthusiastically but Jane stopped her.
"Not tonight," she said, "you have more alcohol in your bloodstream than…than blood itself, I would say."
"Tomorrow then." Elisabeth promised. "Tomorrow I'll make you such a hairdo that you will look like an angel."
"Can't imagine that." Jane said calmly, but Elisabeth repeated stubbornly: "Like an angel… and I will make you look like an angel too for your future-telling even if I have to sleep with Damien and…"
"Thank you." Jane said. "Do you want me to finish with your cup? You're going to move into a new apartment."
"I'm not!" Elisabeth said hotly. "I like my flat although it is a rat hole and my landlord is a dirty old scoundrel who spies on me and each time we meet tries to grope my bottom! To think about it, I hate the place but it's all I can afford at the moment, so I'm staying and that's final."
"I don't know." Jane said. "But it's here in your cup and also some fortune too."
"You know, it's like money." Mary said helpfully.
"Money? Highly unlikely. Maybe Maxim's thinking of giving me a pay rise…nah! He's a bastard."
While Elisabeth meditated on her financial state Jane took Mary's cup.
Incidentally Jane likes spicy food. Her favourite is Beef Transylvanian.
"That's nice," said Jane smiling at Mary, "you're going to get what you really like: a first smile and all that and a little sweet romance."
"Who with?" Mary asked jumping up and down in her seat.
"I don't know. It's somebody brand new in your life."
"Everybody's getting something new." Kitty said angrily. "Everybody but me."
"And me." Jane said. "What do you expect? We're married women."
"You haven't read your cup yet." Kitty reminded her looking with some jealousy at Jane's cup.
"I'm not sure that I will. It's not right to do it for yourself."
"Oh, come on," said Lydia, "try it. Maybe there's a Prince Charming in your cup. You'll never know if you don't look."
Jane reluctantly lifted her coffee cup. She looked at it for a while and then put it down with a sigh.
"Rubbish just as I thought."
"What was it?" Kitty asked with curiosity.
"If you have to know: somebody new for me as well."
"You see!" Kitty exclaimed accusingly.
"Chill out. It's not true. And where could I meet somebody anyway? I don't work, I don't go out and with my three little angels I don't have either the time or the strength to cheat on their father."
"What does your cup say about it?"
"That I will meet this man at some party but the only party I'm invited to is my grandparents' wedding anniversary and that will be strictly family business."
"Don't get upset," said Kitty somewhat disconnectedly, "everything will be alright: Elisabeth will do your hair and I'll cook you a nice dinner."
"Will you invite me for dinner?" Mary asked anxiously. "Don't forget, I'm your best friend."
"And I invited you today." Lydia reminded firmly.
"You know what?" Kitty said. "Let's have a dinner at my place in a fortnight so we could exchange news and stuff."
And everyone agreed that it was a great idea…
"It's gorgeous!" said Elisabeth helping herself with a second portion of fish roulette. "And I've never eaten anything like that before."
They sat in a small dining room of Kitty's 1930's house and enjoyed the dinner she promised them a month ago. Originally they intended to have it at earlier time but at first Kitty's little son Peter got ill, then Mary had to take her week's break which was planned months before, so instead of two weeks they had to wait for their get-together longer that they hoped.
Kitty's husband was away, her mum who lived in Eastbourne volunteered to take care of Peter and they got the opportunity to have a perfect girls' night in. Some of them wanted to share their secrets, some were impatient to make Jane tell them their future again and it was Mary who broke the news first.
"I met him," she said triumphantly, "my ideal romance."
"And I slept with the brothers." Elisabeth added gloomily.
"What, simultaneously?"
"No, consecutively. But on the same night."
"Cool!" Lydia said with envy forgetting for a moment about her refinement.
Everyone wanted to know the details, that is, everyone except for Mary who'd rather have told them about love life. But she was totally forgotten.
"So, there were these twins, only I didn't know that they were twins at first,"
Elisabeth began, "and that, Jane, was entirely your fault: you spoke about brothers. If you'd warned me I would have been much more vigilant. Anyway, one of them, Bill, came to our salon with some starlet from the West End. He accompanied her, I mean. And she treated him like dirt and I thought "Poor pet!" and felt sorry for him. Only as I understood later I was wrong: she was the injured party, he didn't think much of her and she felt that and tried to show him how she cared. Her hair didn't need lot of work, so he stayed waiting for her to get ready and while she was sitting under the dryer I offered them coffee and they said "yes" and I went to the staff room to make it and he followed me and she didn't look happy about that but what could she do? She couldn't run after us, could she? Of course, I didn't understand at first why she was so miserable until we went into the room and… Oh, I don't know, I'm not good in storytelling!
"You're doing just fine!" all her friends shouted with the exception of Mary who still would have preferred to tell her story instead of listening to Elizabeth's.
"All right, then. So he came after me and while I was making the coffee he began to kiss me: at first gently – you know, like at the back of my neck and near my ear and with my hands full I couldn't do anything."
She made a pause, thought it over for a moment and then continued:
"Though I'm not sure that I would have done anything even if I could. First of all he looked terrific: tall, great body, sort of longish hair, dark, thick but very soft."
"Cut the crap." Lydia said. "Nobody's interested in your professional opinion of his hair. Give us some dirt."
"OK, here's the dirt: our staff room has a door naturally but no lock or whatever. So there is a salon full of clients any of them could ask for tea or coffee any second and here we are making love basically the other side of the wall from them."
"You made love with him right after meeting him?" Mary woke up suddenly.
"Well, I wouldn't call it real lovemaking: just a few ins and outs to make a statement. Then we heard somebody's steps and stopped. Right in time, as a matter of fact. But it was great! He was great too but to tell you the truth I don't know which turned me on more: his spirit or the thought that somebody could come in anytime and see us."
"What happened next?" Kitty said impatiently while Elisabeth energetically half-emptied her wine glass.
"Not much: I returned to his girlfriend, finished her hair and took my next client."
"I'm warning you, Eliza Sutton: stop teasing us." Lydia said threateningly. "You promised us the tale of the twins and we're entitled to expect it from you with all the filthy details."
"May I at least have a piece of this wonderful cake first?" Elisabeth begged, as Kitty brought from the kitchen and put on the table the yummy-looking dish.
"Gulp it down real quickly," said Lydia warily watching Elisabeth putting a generous piece of cake on her plate, "and tell us about the twins."
"Nobody's going to gulp down my beautiful cake." Kitty said crossly.
"Then we would never know what had happened."
"Give me a break!" Elisabeth said. "I'll only have a tiny bite and I'll continue the story.
And true to her words she did.
After her encounter with Bill she returned home in a slightly dreamy state. Although her adventure was a very brisk one still it was a real adventure and it was fun to think about it and even to fantasize what could have taken place next if they hadn't been surprised by one of the colleagues. Elisabeth as I already pointed out was of pragmatic kind and didn't believe much in romance and all these sentiments, so she didn't suppose that she would ever see Bill again. After all he had every opportunity to ask for her number before he and his girlfriend left. But he didn't. Thus he wasn't really interested. Her feelings weren't hurt and being an opportunist very much like Bill himself she fully enjoyed her new experience. Later that evening when she was deeply engaged in the misfortunes of the heroes of her favourite medical drama (or fortunes, whichever you prefer) the telephone rang and keeping her eyes on the TV screen she reluctantly picked it up.
It was Bill.
"How did you get my number?" was the first thing she asked and while saying that she realised that just like Rett Butler she didn't give a damn.
"I have my ways." Bill said. "Do you want to see me?"
"I don't mind. Where are you?" Elisabeth said slowly trying to guess how much time he would need to get to her place and whether that would be enough for her to finish watching her TV programme.
I repeat: Elisabeth wasn't a very romantic person.
"I'm in Calombaris Gardens opposite house number 12a." Bill said.
"Where?!" Elisabeth nearly shouted. "Is there a law of privacy in this country? Who gave you my address?"
"Does it matter? And may I come in?"
"No, it doesn't and yes, you may," she agreed meekly and then added, "but keep in mind that you'll be up against a serious competition here."
"Why? Did you invite England football squad for the night?"
"No, but I'm watching TV."
"We'll see." Bill promised darkly.
He arrived a couple of minutes later and was absolutely right in stating that no soap was a match to him.
"We spent four hours shagging non-stop and I'm pretty sure that he didn't repeat a single one of his moves. At some point I felt like a ballerina, perhaps, not ballerina, but one of those synchronised dancers or acrobats: you know – to the left, to the right, somersault and back flip."
"You can't screw somebody and do a back flip at the same time." Kitty said with indignation."
"With Elisabeth you'd be surprised." Lydia murmured while Elisabeth continued her story.
Bill left early in the morning without breakfast, he was in a hurry. He worked for the BBC. In spite of his looks he wasn't and didn't have any inclination to be an actor. At that moment he was rather a pawn but maybe he dreamt of becoming a producer or great director one day. Who knows? Or rather who cares? Definitely not Elisabeth. All she knew was that she had the best sex in years or maybe ever and all she cared about was when they would repeat it. She didn't hear from him for the next two days, then he called and they had yet another head-spinning night, perhaps even better than the first one as it was Saturday and neither she nor he were working the next day.
Therefore they spent almost the whole of Sunday in bed too, making interruptions for eating and some refreshment in the bathroom. To think about it even there they had more sex than refreshment. As for food – they kept ordering Chinese from the local take-away and in between Elisabeth treated Bill to her, as she called "Three-minute snacks". She always remembered the words of wisdom her grandmother told her when Elisabeth was a little girl: the shortcut to a man's heart is through his stomach.
They parted very pleased with each other with Bill telling Elizabeth that he would be busy to the end of the following week as his team were shooting in Scotland. Whether she believed him or not she kept it to herself. He was back from Scotland (or any other place) when he said and they enjoyed each other's company on numerous accounts both at her place and at his minute studio in Central London. Then without a word he disappeared, she called him a few times but he didn't call back and one day not being a shy person she went to his apartment. Bill opened the door looking so cute that she kissed him straight on the spot. He was surprised and confused and she suspected him having female company. Moved by curiosity not by hurt feelings she stormed into his room but it was empty so not wasting any time she jumped at him like a tigress. He was unusually slow and even awkward at first…like for three minutes...but whatever was eating him soon gone and they were entertaining each other pleasantly when suddenly the door flung open and Elisabeth saw Bill standing on the threshold.
"So they aren't just twins, they are identical too," deduced Lydia, "how are they between the sheets, are they identical as well?"
"Not really. Ben, that's the other one, has as much stamina as Bill but he is more gentle. Unfortunately he's also less creative if you understand what I mean. "
"That Billy-boy sounds quite interesting."
"He is a wizard. Believe me, he's the best!"
"I wouldn't mind getting to know him closer."
"Me too but I'm not particularly popular with him at the moment. Ben on the contrary is simply stalking me. He wants to be with me and he doesn't care that I've slept with his brother. Or with hundreds of others. Those were his own words."
"Hundreds?" Mary asked with some horror. "How many men have you been with exactly?"
"Many." Elisabeth said.
"Never mind your men," said Kitty, "tell us what happened when Bill saw you and Ben together?"
After the silence which followed Bill's arrival, he and Elisabeth began shouting at each other. A bit later Ben joined them. Their exchange was noisy and heated but not particularly fruitful partly because they used more expletives than proper words, plus all three of them spoke at the same time, which didn't help. When they got tired and their conversation became more intelligible Elizabeth learned that Ben was staying at Bill's while Ben's flat was being redecorated. At the same time Bill was away working twenty four-seven for our glorious broadcaster but he swore that he called her numerous times.
But she wasn't home.
But he left her messages on her answering machine.
But then he stopped doing that because he remembered that on his last visit she accidentally sat on it while explaining to him why he shouldn't f*** her while she was painting her toe-nails.
"It's physically impossible," said Lydia, "unless you weren't sitting whilst painting your toes."
"I was not." Elisabeth said.
Her statement was followed by silent period during which each of them thought about pros and cons of such a position. And the possibilities it offers. They also ate the whole cake to the crumb. By the way the excellent dinner Kitty cooked for her friends was of three courses. For the starter she made a soup which everybody appreciated highly. Autumn soup she called it.
"Tell us about your romantic encounter, Mary." Jane said kindly.
She watched Mary for some time and noticed her impatience to share her news with the girls. Mary looked at Jane with gratitude. She was simply dying to get everyone's attention.
Unlike Elisabeth's her story lacked any drama or erotic scenes. Mary was an active supporter of the Green Party and was on the committee of the local branch. As it happened all the members of the committee worked in the hospital which was very convenient for their meetings. The last one was due to the day after Mary's return from her break.
"By the by how was it?" Elisabeth asked licking her sticky fingers and looking at the empty cake dish with evident regret.
"The break? Great. I went skiing with my parents and my cousin's family. We do it every year. We went to Val d'Isere, it's a nice place, I've been there before. The slopes are great."
"Was there a lot of snow?" Kitty asked. "I adore snow. We have to go somewhere cold next year to show Peter a real winter."
Mary watched her friends forgetting about her main story with growing anxiety.
"I hate winter." Elisabeth said. "It's cold and you have to put a lot of clothes on and a lot of protective cream on your face and you look anything but elegant. I prefer summer. Long white open dresses, headscarves of the most exotic colours, m-m."
"You can be very elegant in the winter too." Lydia interrupted. "Just think about some nice mink coat or…"
"Wearing fur is wrong!" Mary said hotly.
"Don't you go green with me." Lydia said. "You eat meat and you smoke! And anyway let's get back to the point: did you meet your Prince Charming on the slopes?"
"No," said Mary smiling shyly, "he works in our hospital."
"Really? Who is he? Do I know him?"
Jo, the chairman, or rather chairwoman of the committee, dropped in to remind Mary about the meeting. We have a new member, she said triumphantly, and he expressed his wish to be on the committee. His name is Dan, he's Australian and he has started to work in ophthalmology just two weeks ago. By the way he's very handsome and single. Take your chance, girl! Mary only laughed. She broke up with her former boyfriend less than half a year ago and didn't feel ready for any serious commitment. She wouldn't mind having somebody nice and friendly for the occasional eating out and maybe more as they say in dating ads but "maybe more" meant chiefly going to the theatre or for a walk. And undoubtedly it would be nice to have a partner to play tennis. They had a great team at work but unfortunately all of them but Mary had partners so she always had to hunt for somebody to play with.
As for other things, well, unlike her old friend Elisabeth Mary didn't have much of an appetite for sex. (Elisabeth to Mary's strong belief was spending all her spare time on three things: making love, seeking somebody suitable for making love or thinking about making love.) Shy and quiet Mary wasn't very lucky with partners in the past. Perhaps if she would meet somebody like Elisabeth's Bill she would change her attitude towards sex but unfortunately for her all her former boyfriends were either shy like she or ignorant or inattentive. That's why for Mary the highest point of having sex was to lay side by side in bed with her beloved one: the head on his shoulder, his arms embracing her tenderly and his lips occasionally kissing her temple. Some sweet loving conversation was the best bonus she could think of.
Poor Mary!
By the way Mary likes to eat. Every evening she says to herself: "Tomorrow I diet" but tomorrow, as we all know, never becomes today. Her favourite dish is veal with Morella cherries.
As I said she didn't have any intention to pursue a new guy in their group, yet before going to the meeting she made-up her face much more carefully than she normally did and even went as far as styling her hair a little bit. After all she was a young single female and she wanted to be admired like any other woman.
As usual she came in slightly earlier than she was supposed to. Jo was there already but she wasn't on her own: a young tall and slender man was talking to her in the otherwise empty room.
"Mary at last." Jo said. "Dan, meet Mary. She's one of our activists. And a very-very nice person. She works in radiology. And she's very bright. And… oh yes, she plays tennis."
"You play tennis?" Dan rejoiced over the statement. "I love tennis. Where do you play? Can I come with you if it's not a big bother?"
Mary listened to the sound of his voice forgetting quickly about her resolution not to get involved until at least next summer. He was so friendly. His smile was captivating. His blue eyes looked at Mary as if they'd known each other for many, many years. His voice was charming and he was just too good to be true. In other words Mary was having her favourite perfect moment of the first acquaintance.
She'd even forgotten about Jo's presence while she was standing opposite to Dan looking into his sweet understanding eyes and smiling happily. Meanwhile the other members of the committee began to arrive. Linda came and Steve, busy as always, did too. He waved to everybody while talking on his mobile. His face was gloomy and his voice rather angry. He worked in the Personnel Department and there were constant problems and quarrels there. Finally The Bitch came with John dragging his feet leisurely behind her, the habitual expression of the utmost boredom on the face. John was one of those men whose presence made all women's hearts beat much faster. No matter how old they were, married or single, deeply in love with their partners or men-haters, as soon as he entered the room female grim faces bloomed with smiles, eyes shone and so on. Even now although Mary was very much interested in Dan, not in John, she felt a familiar shiver of excitement when he appeared. There was no reasonable explanation to that, just a mere fact of life.
There were only two women, or rather Mary knew only two women, who were totally cold to John's charms. One of them was Elisabeth. Last time she visited Mary in the hospital she passed John twice in the corridors without noticing him. During one of those encounters she even waited patiently while Mary exchanged greetings and a couple of words with him. And nothing! Not a word of appreciation, not a question of "Who's that?!" made in a trembling voice. Unbelievable. The Bitch was the other woman who didn't care much about John. She treated him like a piece of furniture. That day she actually used him as a piece of furniture.
"I can't sit in the armchair," she said firmly, "no, I can't sit on the settee either, I need something higher today. No, thank you very much, Jo, my back is OK, it's my dress. Yes, of course I can sit in it but when I stand up there is a high possibility that it will burst open like a ripe watermelon if you forgive me for being graphic."
Her dress indeed was very tight and Mary thought that she would rather die than to allow anybody to see her in such a dress. But then she didn't have the figure of The Bitch.
In the end John found a solution to The Bitch's problem by pulling her on his knees. That was another thing that Mary would rather die than do in public: to be seen sitting on a man's lap, although when she thought about John her conviction was slightly shaken. The sight of John whispering something into her worst enemy's ear while the latter smiled with contempt was so appalling that Mary turned her eyes away and caught the look that Dan gave to the couple. It was so full of disapproval that Mary immediately felt happy. What happened next was even better. Without a word Dan left the room and returned carrying a chair with him. He put the chair near John and with the appropriate gesture offered it to The Bitch.
"Thank you, I'm fine." she said sounding arrogant beyond belief.
"Give the chair a try." Dan said in a very cold and dry voice.
The Bitch looked at him with some interest and surprisingly enough obeyed. Mary was exultant but after the meeting Dan managed to make her even happier: she accidentally overheard him asking Jo whether she sincerely thought that The Bitch's presence at their gatherings was so crucial.
The next day for the first time Mary played doubles with her own partner. Dan was really good and Mary wasn't really that bad so they formed a fine couple. After the match, which by the way they won, Dan invited her to the local pub where she spent a very happy hour listening to his stories about Australia, his friends and his parents' farm. When they parted Mary knew for sure that she was in love with him but she wasn't sure about his feelings. He certainly enjoyed her company but was it just the friendliness of a newcomer or something more?
"So what was it?" Elisabeth asked impatiently.
"I don't know." Mary said honestly. "We only met a few days ago. On that meeting. And then I played tennis with him and had a couple of drinks and a nice chat."
"When did you play tennis?"
"On Wednesday."
"And what, you haven't seen him since?"
"I have. A few times." Mary said blushing.
"Mary, you didn't, you silly girl," Elisabeth said with disgust. "Oh my God, you did, you did it again."
"Did what?" Kitty asked. "Mary, what have you done? You don't mean that you've slept with him already, do you? Without telling me? Me, your best friend? It's disgusting."
Kitty's favourite dish doesn't even have a name. She started to cook it after her last summer break in Alicante so there was probably some influence of Spanish cuisine. Let's christen the dish Beans Alicante. And why not?
"Of course, she hasn't slept with him," sad Elisabeth angrily, "I wish she had instead of behaving like a complete fool. Each time she falls in love she does behave like a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. You tell them what you've done!"
There was a nice view of the hospital's parking lot from Mary's room. In the past such scenery combined with the noise and smell of arriving and departing cars irritated her beyond measure. Now it seemed to be a great advantage. Each time she saw Dan leaving his car, she rushed downstairs meeting him sometimes near the staff entrance, sometimes on the stairs or even outside in front of the building. Naturally it looked totally unintentional or at least Mary believed that it did. And on every occasion she gave a brilliant performance of a hard-working woman who was happy to see Dan but unfortunately too busy to stop for a chat.
"Don't you see how idiotic your conduct is? Even if he hasn't guessed yet why you bump into him every morning with the accuracy of a Swiss watch…"
"Of course he hasn't, why should he?" Mary said angrily.
"Yeah, sure. OK, let's suppose that he doesn't suspect anything. After all he's Australian. They're very trusting there. Healthy life style on the farm, innocent souls, etc. Still what do you gain from this stupid game and what are you going to achieve?"
"Well," said Mary blushing, "I see him every morning. That makes me happy for the whole day."
Both Elisabeth and Lydia stared at her like she was a particularly green alien.
"She's incurable." Elisabeth said nodding pitifully. "When are you playing tennis again?"
"On Monday. It's our club day. There's also Saturday morning but he's told me that at the moment he can't play on Saturdays."
"Don't be stupid then. Take the initiative, invite him home, grab any of his protruding parts and drag him into bed."
"I'm not going to do anything of that kind." Mary said with dignity, then she added: "Because I don't want to. I want to see him and talk to him. I want to walk with him along the beach on a summer night and swim together towards the sky and stars.
"Ri-ight," said Lydia, "you've lost it completely."
"At any rate," said Kitty quickly, "so far all of Jane's predictions have come true.
Elisabeth had her brothers and Mary found a true romance. And nothing exciting happened to me as it was promised."
"And I'm really moving into a new flat." Elisabeth interrupted her. "I won the Lottery!"
"You never!"
"Yes, I did. Five hundred thirty-two thousand eight hundred fifty pounds! Which means: goodbye, horrible dump which I called "my place" for the last three years, hello, gorgeous little flat in a quiet cul-de-sac very close to work. Somewhere in May I'll invite you for a real housewarming party but right now I wouldn't mind if you give me another coffee reading: I want to know what to expect."
"And maybe you will see something interesting for me too." Kitty said wistfully.
"Thank you for being such great friends," said Lydia sarcastically, "and for your sincere interest in my affairs. And for asking me how things with Liam are going."
"Oh Lydia, dear, we're very interested in your news." Mary said in a small voice.
"Tell us, please, what happened."
Lydia opened her mouth to reply but at that time her mobile rang and when she looked at the screen she found out that it was her mother phoning which meant at least ten minutes of lively arguments with or without any reason. Nevertheless a thought of ignoring her mum's call didn't cross her mind. Lydia was a good daughter.
Also her mum was a very, very-very, persistent woman.
While Lydia was enjoying conversation with the mother Kitty turned to Jane.
"Now, what about you?" she asked. "How did that dinner go?"
"What dinner?" Jane said. "Oh, you mean my grandparents' anniversary. It was great! Absolutely great. They rented a banquet hall in the Grand Hotel for the evening. It was quite a big party. After all my grandparents have seven children. With them and all the grandchildren and the rest of the family and friends there were lots of guests altogether. More than a hundred as a matter of fact. The food was good and everything was fun and my granddad requested my gran's favourite song and they danced. Speaking of food we had an amazing pie there. They called it Tower of Babel."
Very exciting, I'm sure." Elisabeth said. "But what about you, did you meet somebody there?"
Jane thought about Charles. She remembered his body under the shower stream in the cubicle and felt a hot wave of desire. But aloud she said in a clear calm voice.
"No, sorry, girls. I told you, one shouldn't try to predict one's own future."
Although enjoying their company Jane didn't know her new friends as well as they knew each other. She met Lydia only because they were neighbours and if it wasn't for her youngest son who was slightly sick at the time and to whom Lydia gave some medical advice their acquaintance would probably never have gone beyond "Hi!" and "Bye!" She didn't feel close enough to the girls to tell them the truth. And the truth was that after thirteen years of blameless married life Jane had gotten a lover. She met him at the banquet just like her cup predicted and although not their blood relative he was still part of the family.
Jane arrived at the restaurant almost breathless but on time. She was on her own, her husband had at the last moment to fly to Holland to settle some business matters. He didn't want to go there but he wasn't in a position to choose: he had a very good job and even greater prospects for his further career but for that he had to work very hard and follow every order. As if that wasn't enough Jane's babysitter fell ill and she spent hours calling all her friends begging them to find her a substitute. Finally her mother-in-law agreed to come and stay with the children for the night but by the time she appeared Jane had just a little bit more than an hour left till the party.
"You look terrible," her mother said after she congratulated her grandparents and went to say "hello" to her and Dad, "your face is red, your nose glistening and your hair is in complete disarray. I see you've changed your hair style. To tell you the truth I preferred the old one. This doesn't become you at all."
This was Jane's mum all right. Jane didn't remember when the last time she heard something nice from her mother. When she got married and her husband didn't criticise everything she did she thought she was in heaven. In all truth she was so grateful that she spoiled him beyond belief. Later she added the kids to her list of VIPs. She fussed around them and the house like some overanxious clucking mother-hen forgetting about herself, putting on weight and every day looking more and more neglected. Then one day, it was during their summer break in Portugal, she saw herself in the mirror and got a fright. The fact that she was in her swimming costume didn't help at all. She started dieting and joined the local gym. She did it secretly because she wasn't sure how Adam, her husband, would feel about that. By Christmas she returned to her normal shape but it didn't look like Adam had noticed. Anyway she felt much better about herself now and even went to London for the seasonal sales bringing back masses of parcels and shoeboxes. The dress she wore to the party wasn't bought there. Jane found it just a few days ago in a small boutique in Brighton's Lanes. It was surprisingly expensive for such a place but as soon as she tried it she knew that it was made especially for her. It also went very nicely with her new haircut which Elisabeth did as she promised. Elisabeth set her tresses in exactly the same way as she did recently for some very famous model but she admitted that it suited Jane with her high cheek-boned face and her luxurious deep chestnut coloured hair much more.
"And did you have to buy gladioli?" her mother continued. "They look so…common."
Jane nodded absentmindedly for which she could get a severe reprimand from her mum did her grandma not approach them at that moment towing behind her a pair: a young girl of rather striking appearance and a man.
"Look who's here," she said, "Jane, dear, do you remember Diana?"
Diana was the child of gran's youngest, and as Jane had always suspected, favourite daughter. Tragically she died in a car accident when Diana was a mere baby and her husband whom Jane had met once or twice previously but didn't remember at all brought his daughter up on his own. Last time Jane saw her, Diana was a clumsy child but now that ugly duckling had turned indeed into a swan. Jane looked at her with genuine admiration while grandma explained:
"Her dad brought her back to England for University."
And Jane remembered that some years ago they moved to Canada: either emigrated or he went to work there – she couldn't recollect which.
"She's in the Trinity College, in Oxford," gran said proudly, "not just a pretty face, eh? "
"Time flies by," she sighed, "blink a few times and your eldest will be in University too."
Jane tried to imagine Tom as a graduate but instead of him she saw her littlest, Adam Jr. in a black gown and a graduating hat. A pleasant man's voice returned her to the real world. He spoke to her parents and she didn't catch his first words but she heard him saying something like the last time they all saw each other was at her wedding party.
So for the first time she looked at Diana's dad… and died.
Not literally of course. But for some time everything around her became unreal. The sounds seemed so distant. The crowd, even her parents, even her gran, turned into shadows with their figures and faces almost indistinguishable and only Charles she could see clearly and she heard nothing but his voice. At the table they sat far away from each other but from time to time she caught his glance or his smile and felt deliriously happy. She wouldn't have noticed what she ate if not for her mother who was unfortunately sitting too close to her and making sarcastic comments about all the dishes served. In reality the food was excellent. Fish was particularly delicious and they had very good lamb with prunes and the most unusual dessert:
After grandma and grandpa had their dance the other couples joined the floor. Young people treated the idea with contempt but the "oldsters" enjoyed tangoing and waltzing. Jane even saw her own mum with one of her brothers-in-law. Dad had hated dancing all his life and was obviously hiding somewhere.
Jane thought about Charles and whether he liked dancing, then she pictured herself in his arms swinging slowly to the sounds of music and he immediately appeared as if from nowhere and offered her his hand.
When she touched him for the first time it felt like an electric shock. When he put his arms around her body she couldn't stop trembling all over. When they danced her head spun.
It was spinning faster and faster and at the end she didn't think at all and couldn't remember or even understand how they found themselves at one point on the hotel's glazed balcony which was turned into a sort of greenhouse, stuffy and slightly neglected. They didn't talk, just kissed like mad. Then they kissed again in the taxi which took them back to Charles' place. He lived on the third floor and so they kissed in the elevator too. And later in front of his door while he tried to open it behind her back with his left hand – the right one was busy touching her neck under her beautiful new haircut. When they finally got into the flat and his deft hands took care of her clothes she completely lost feeling of time or reality. She was a feather, a dandelion's fluff, light summer cloud that drifted with a warm breeze not knowing and not thinking in what direction. When his naked body met hers it was like a revelation. And everything that happened afterwards was so breathtaking, so unbearably wonderful that it hurt.
She lost her head.
She lost touch with reality.
She remembered little of what had happened to her. Just bits and pieces. Just snippets, shiny smithereens.
Charles' face getting close to her, the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his kisses and slow, burning spasms of her desire.
There was nothing similar between Jane's and Elisabeth's attitude towards sex. For Elisabeth sex was yet another pleasure of life. She was totally shameless and relaxed in any situation. Her experience could make an old brothel's Madam blush while Jane had only one sexual partner before Charles: her husband. She was a virgin before she got married and even after thirteen years of life under the same roof with Adam still hated to change her clothes in front of him. Everything was so different now, she didn't feel embarrassed with her lover at all doing whatever he wanted her to do and finding it natural. Only now she realised that their sex life with Adam wasn't so great from the beginning.
The next day her mother-in-law would ask her where she stayed overnight. At my cousin Diana's father's flat, she would say honestly, smiling inside at her boldness and realising that Adam's mum would visualise some old or ageing relative, probably fat and bald, not at all like Charles with his trimmed body, so strong and tender at the same time. She would look sideways so as not to betray herself by the shining of her eyes or her incautious smile. Only when her mother-in-law would leave she would allow herself to think joyfully about the night they spent with Charles. And her head would spin again and her boys would be taken aback by her inattentiveness.
Little did she know then that those would be her last happy thoughts for long months ahead.
Although Charles didn't work in Canada any longer that didn't mean that he stayed in
England all the time. His job made him travel a lot around the world and he liked it that way. Now when Diana didn't need his everyday care and attention he felt free to live the life which satisfied him most. While Jane was falling for him in a big way his feelings to her were of a very different nature. He didn't mind having her occasionally in his bed and the fact that she was married and busy with her family suited him immensely. He didn't have any intention of making things between them serious of difficult. Thus he called Jane when he returned home, made love to her when he was pleased to do it and forgot about as soon as she closed the door behind her.
Not very nice – I know.
"Would you believe that?" Lydia said returning to Kitty's dining room. "I am to spend the weekend with my parents. Why? Because I can't find a proper boyfriend who isn't a geek, or a loser, or a taxman."
"What's wrong with a taxman?" Jane asked dubiously.
"I slept with a taxman once." Elisabeth said meditatively.
Lydia looked at Elisabeth with contempt and didn't even bother to answer Jane's question.
"So what happened with your date you told us about when we were at your place?" Kitty asked.
"Nothing. Jane was right. He wasn't for me. Definitely!"
"Did he stand you up?" Elisabeth asked mockingly.
"No, he did not! Nobody ever stands me up. He came and we watched this idiotic movie, sorry, Jane, I didn't mean that. I'm really grateful for your help, it's just that I'm still mad at Liam. And what's worse still unattached."
"Is he gay?" Kitty asked.
"No, he's not."
"Maybe he's impotent?" Elisabeth suggested. "Girls, girls, want an anecdote about medical students? The usual situation, you know, a lecture in a medical school and the old professor is saying: "A man, who wants to have sex but can't do it, is called an impotent". A gorgeous hunk from the back row asks immediately: "Professor, what would you call a man who can do it but doesn't want to?" Some plain nerdy looking girl-student jumps from her seat and shouts: "We call him a BASTARD!""
"I didn't have the opportunity to learn whether he was an impotent or a bastard," said Lydia dryly, "as when he was more or less ready to perform I was fed up with him. It was disgusting! I put on my most seductive little black dress, I bought a tonne of candles and I cooked him pork medallions a la Provencal."
"What happened?" Jane asked smiling.
"A lot actually. First of all he told me that I looked very nice and that his mum had a dress almost like mine and that she looked terrific in it. How do you like that? I look just nice. I don't look terrific, his mum does! He didn't comment on the candles but when he saw my pork medallions he exclaimed: "Great! How did you guess? This is my favourite dish. My mum cooks it absolutely admirably. If you want I can ask her for the recipe. I'm sure she will be happy to share her little secrets with you.
She has such a generous soul"."
"Gay!" Elisabeth said.
"Positively gay," she added after some contemplation.
"Gay guys are such a waste." Kitty said thoughtfully.
"What do you mean: waste?"
"I'll tell you what happened to me recently. I was shopping at Oxford Street with my cousin Jodie and then we popped into one of those Nero places to have a cup of coffee and we were just leaving the café when a beautiful white Bentley stopped not far away from us and the driver got out. He was just lovely: young, tall, with the body of some Greek god."
"Which god?" Lydia asked caustically. "The one that always sits on the wine barrel, naked, fat and totally drunk?"
"I've never seen Greek gods." Elisabeth said sadly.
"Remember young Claude Van Damme? Greek gods looked a hundred times better." Kitty explained. "Anyway, both Jodie and I said "Wow!" and "Hubba, hubba!" and we were ready to fight to the death for him when a short bow-legged freak joined the guy, they embraced lovingly and went down the street."
"Perhaps it was his dad." Mary said innocently.
"If your dad would stroke your brother's derriere in the same manner the shorty did, you would call social services."
"I don't have a brother but I get your point." Mary said.
"That's what I call a waste." Kitty explained. "A young smashing bloke who is interested in other blokes instead of chasing suitable women like for example a sweet little moi."
"I slept with a gay man once." Elisabeth muttered.
"You did what? You don't mean that you actually slept with him?"
"That's exactly what I did. Leo, one of our stylists, is gay – and as a matter of fact he still doesn't talk to me since that accident – and he had a special friend Martin. I saw him rather often when he came to fetch Leo after work. He had a body to die for and OMG! I wanted him. It's rubbish what they say that gay men can't be appealing to women. You bet they can. One day we had that Christmas party and at the end everyone was completely and utterly pissed. Leo brought his dear Martin, of course, he couldn't survive without him for a couple of hours! And I was bored. And drunk. So I asked my friend Rachel to help and while she discussed something cute and fluffy with Leo I took Martin into our spare room to show him something fluffy and cute. There I made him drink with me to a never-ending friendship: you know when you cross your right arms and down your drink and then kiss. To be on the safe side we did it twice. The first kiss was so-so, but the second was a proper one although he couldn't keep himself in a vertical position anymore. But then that wasn't needed anyway. As I didn't mind to be the active force he probably thought that I was Leo.
"So…how was that?" asked Kitty looking both embarrassed and immensely curious.
"It was OK, in fact it was very OK but this idiot couldn't find anything better to do than eventually confess to Leo. I suspect that he really enjoyed it and was dying to discuss his experience with somebody. Like, you know: look at me: I'm a big boy now and I've been straight once! Anyway, finish your story, Lydia."
"Well, when I learned so much about his mother, her habits and excellence and we watched that Fellini's thing he felt very romantic and…"
"Tore your clothes off, pushed you to the floor and made passionate love to you." Elisabeth suggested.
"On the contrary. He placed himself as comfortably as he could on the sofa and shared with me a beautiful story of his first unhappy love. Then he told me that his stressful experience taught him not to trust women. With an exception of his perfect mum obviously."
"Sounds like a mixture of Freud and Lolita-like stuff." Kitty said.
"Sounds impotent to me." said Elisabeth.
"In the end I got so fed up with his irksome voice and his soul that had never been appreciated properly that no matter how handsome he looked he couldn't attract me anymore. I think men like he have to work as bodyguards for male pop stars."
"Why?"
"They would act as a repellent for female fans. To think that I spent the whole evening on that bore, the mere idea drives me crazy! And now as punishment for my crime against myself I have to go to Great Littleton to enjoy lovely long walks across the fields or what's even worse long horse back rides. I've hated horses since my childhood. They're smelly and people look elegant on their backs only on the pictures of the Old Masters. Never mind! After all there are fifty two weekends in a year. I have plenty of chances."
"Funny name: Great Littleton." Elisabeth giggled.
"It's called "Great" because there're ten or so houses and a pub in it. The neighbouring Littleton is much smaller."
"Do they also have something like Tiny or Petite Littleton?" Mary asked, ecstatic with her joke.
"You would be surprised," was Lydia's gloomy answer.
"I think it's time for coffee." Jane said cheerfully and thought about Charles.
They moved into the kitchen where to their delight they found raspberry jelly and while Jane was engaged with the coffee the others scoffed the entire lot.