A Married Man Part 11

Chapter Nine.

Rose wrongfooted me the following morning and rang before I was ready for her.

Now. I gather you've got a friend for the weekend?'

'Er, yes.' I put my book down and swung my legs out of bed, hastily reaching for a dressing gown. 'But listen,' I said, struggling into it and trying to hang onto the receiver, somehow feeling she could tell I was nibbling toast in bed in a slovenly manner and that the boys were downstairs watching cartoons, 'I was going to ring you, Rose, and say please don't count us in. Only Lavinia said you were having a party, so-'

'Nonsense,' she interrupted. 'The party's for you, my dear, so you can meet people. Of course I'll count you in. Your friend must come too. Her name is?'

'Teresa. Teresa Carluccio, and Pietro, her little boy.' 'Foreign?'

'Well, yes, Italian. But listen, Rose-'

'Hmm... better not mention that to Archie. Just in case. Although I have to say, it's usually the men he objects to. Extraordinary the way some foreign women with the tightest possible skirts and make-up that looks like it's been applied with a high-pressure hose don't offend him at all. How long is she staying, your Italian friend?'

'Oh, just the night.'

'Oh just the night! Oh fine, fine, not a problem. We'll see you both up here at about seven then, shall we? Oh, and incidentally, not half the county as Lavinia probably indicated, just drinks in the rose garden for about fifty, OK? Bye now.'

Not a problem? I thought, putting the phone down. Of course it wasn't a problem; it was my flaming house Teresa was coming to, wasn't it? Surely I could invite who I liked?

As I sat hunched on the side of the bed glaring at the phone, nostrils flaring with annoyance, it startled me by ringing again.

'h.e.l.lo!' I barked, s.n.a.t.c.hing it up and rather hoping it was her. Hoping to rattle her.

'G.o.d, you sound cross. I thought rural idylls were supposed to de-stress you, not razz you up.'

'Oh Jess, sorry. Hi.' I held my forehead.

'What's eating you so early on a beautiful morning then? Not that hag-ridden old mother-in-law of yours, I hope?' she said gleefully.

'Oh, no no. She's ... fine. How are you, Jess?'

'You might well ask, my friend. The lines of communication couldn't be quieter, could they? I was thinking of resorting to carrier pigeon soon. Didn't you get the message I left on your mobile?'

'Oh G.o.d, yes, sorry. Yes, I did, Jess' Golly, she sounded miffed. 'And I've been meaning to ring you, honestly, but I just haven't had a moment.'

'Ah. How soon one forgets.'

'Oh bog off, I've only been gone three days, for heaven's sake! And I've been absolutely up to my eyes down here' 'What, in clover or cow-poo?'

'Oh clover, definitely clover. It's really lovely down here,' I enthused. 'So pretty, with ma.s.ses of fields and flowers and-' 'Air?'

'Oh yes, loads of fresh air. And flies,' I muttered, swatting one absently. 'And the barn's amazing, by the way.' I sat up a bit straighter, wrapping my dressing gown around me. I was dimly conscious that one of the reasons I hadn't rung Jess back was that I'd slightly wanted to wait until I could say, 'Hey, Look at me! Look at my house, my job, my man!' The latter two were wildly ambitious, of course, but the point was I wanted to be on my uppers.

She sniffed. 'Yes, well, you've clearly got some s.p.a.ce down there at any rate. I hear Teresa is coming for the weekend. I b.u.mped into her in Harvey Nicks'

b.u.g.g.e.r. Really miffed. 'Did you?' I panicked. 'Yes, yes she is, actually, and I was going to ask you too, only I thought you'd probably like to come with Jamie, and isn't he still covering that European Conference or something?' I said lamely.

'Don't be silly, that finished weeks ago. And why on earth would I want to come with him? No, he's home for a bit which makes a change. We had a huge row last night actually, about him always going away and me never going anywhere, and at the end of it he said, "OK, so why don't I look after Henry this weekend, and you go and see Lucy?" '

'Oh, how sweet,' I said faintly. 'Yes, lovely, well do come down, Jess. I'm sure we can all squeeze in somehow. The only problem is, there's a party up at the house on Sat.u.r.day night, you know, at Rose's. Quite a smart do, I gather, which may not be your sort of thing, but it's a bit of a three-line-'

'Nonsense, I love parties. Life and soul, me. And I do possess a smart dress, Lucy, and can be relied upon to behave in a civilised manner at a sw.a.n.ky gathering. Won't gob in the champagne and goose all the old generals or anything gross.'

'No! No, of course not.'

'So I'll be down at about lunchtime on Sat.u.r.day, OK?' 'Fine, fine. Look forward to it, Jess.'

I put the phone down and held my head. Oh G.o.d, what was I going to say to Rose? Happily Jess was as English as they come, but she was clearly in cracking, scathing form, and if she continued to flex her argumentative muscles like that, heads would surely roll. I ran to the shower in a panic, turned it on full blast to steady the nerves, and was just working out my plan of action, when Ben popped his head round the door, distraught.

'It's Teresa on the phone. She says they can't come on Sat.u.r.day after all, because Rozanna's got crabs or something. It's not fair, Mummy, please make her come. I want to see Pietro!'

Tears began to stream down his cheeks, as dripping and swearing I grabbed a towel and ran to the telephone again.

'Teresa, I'm counting on you,' I hissed. 'Ben's desperate for some company in this G.o.dforsaken, child-free zone. What d'you mean she's got crabs?'

'Cramps, not crabs. No, she been getting these terrible pains under her arms, you see, Luce. I don't think she should be left on her own. Yesterday, she suddenly seize up, and scream withpain, it awful! I hear her in my flat and think oh no! and rush down. I mean, sure, you know, I could bring her along with me, I suppose. She love that, Luce, but it's a lot for you..: I looked at Ben's white, tear-stained face beside me, eyes huge and anxious.

'Oh Christ, bring her,' I said resignedly. 'G.o.d knows where we'll all sleep, there's only one spare room, but if we put the boys on Lilos in the sitting room ...'

'And I'll bring Pietro's sleeping bag too,' she said happily. 'Oh, thank you, Luce, she be so pleased! She been feeling rather low and down in the tip recently, she love to see you. Only few days gone and we all miss you so much. Theo and Ray too! They send their love'

'Yes, well, bring them along too,' I said drily. 'Let's make a party of it.'

There was a pause. 'Well, I could ask, but...'

'No!' I groaned. 'I was joking, Teresa. Do give them my love, but please, no more guests'

Oh G.o.d, I could just see Archie's face if that pair minced onto his terrace, clutching their purses and ooh-ing and ah-ing at the bal.u.s.trade, complimenting him on its nice big b.a.l.l.s.

I put the phone down and paced about the house biting my nails, dithering about what to say to Rose. Finally, I lit a cigarette first for days and sat down and seized the phone, ready to brazen it out. Pinkie answered and it dawned on me I could just leave a message.

'Oh sure, Lucy,' she said airily, 'that's not a problem. The more the merrier. I'll let Mummy know when I see her.' Well, a day went by and then another, and still I didn't hear from Rose, so after a while, I breathed again and wondered what on earth I was worrying about. She obviously didn't mind at all. It clearly couldn't matter less. And anyway, in the event, come Sat.u.r.day, it was so lovely to be seeing the old crowd and I was so excited, I simply didn't care.

Ben and Max had been waiting for over an hour at the spare room window which gave a fine view of the drive, and a shriek of glee went up as the car approached. Down they thundered, and we all went outside to meet our visitors as they tumbled out of the car. The boys fell on Pietro and instantly disappeared into the barn, then Jess emerged, blinking in the sunlight. Teresa had given her and Rozanna a lift, so she was in conciliatory mood as she climbed out of the back, all in black Lycra and looking very London in her dark gla.s.ses. She was followed by Rozanna, swathed in cream silk and looking lovely, but pale and fragile as she stepped uncertainly from the car, a huge bunch of lilies in her arms.

'Darling, how lovely,' she murmured, embracing me affectionately. 'So sweet of you to have me.'

I had a feeling there were tears in her eyes as I hugged her back. 'It's lovely to have you,' I a.s.sured her, meaning it. 'How are you feeling?'

'Better,' she smiled. 'Teresa forced me to go to the doctor, who a.s.sured me I have mild rheumatism and not Parkinson's as I rather feared since my dear old pa went down with it.'

'Oh Rozanna, that's a relief. You must have been worried.'

'I was a bit twitched,' she admitted.

'Wow, it's huge!' said Teresa admiringly, getting out of the car and gazing up at the barn.

Jess took off her gla.s.ses and peered. She looked tired, I thought. 'It's no cow shed, is it?' she commented. 'I must say, Lucy, I was expecting something a bit more rustic'

'Were you?' I said, thrilled. 'Oh no, it's terribly swish, and look inside' I swung the door right back and they gaped.

'Ma.s.sive!' said Teresa. 'And - ooh,' she groaned, 'look at the beautiful fabric, on chairs, and curtains! Your Rose have some taste.'

'I'd say you could have some fun from those rafters, too,' murmured Rozanna, looking up.

'Oh, the boys do. They love it.'

'Not, entirely, what she had in mind, I'd hazard,' murmured Jess, shoving a rather hot box of chocolates into my hand. 'And where are the rest of the Fellowes?' She looked around suspiciously as we went inside. 'Mother Rose for instance? Can't believe she's not lurking somewhere, trying to get a quick shufty at us, keen to size us up. And the Tragic Lavinia? Not waving her bottle as usual?'

Teresa giggled. 'We hear all about them in the car,' she admitted guiltily.

'Oh no, they very much keep to themselves,' I said airily, wis.h.i.+ng Jess hadn't met them. 'They've been terribly sweet, actually,' I added, aware of a slightly heroic quality in my response.

'Sweet?' Jess's eyes widened. 'Rose Fellowes? Don't make me laugh. Only as sweet as cold fish, surely? Gravadlax, perhaps?'

'Now, Jess, you are not to be inflammatory!' I hissed, hustling her upstairs to the spare room as she dragged her case. 'You're here as a guest in her b.l.o.o.d.y house, so you can jolly well behave.'

'Her house?' She stopped on the stairs and frowned. 'Some mistake, surely, Luce. I could have sworn this was yours.'

She grinned as I ground my teeth, then suddenly dropped her case and gave me a hug.

'Sorry,' she said contritely. 'G.o.d, sorry. I'm being a cow already, aren't I? Really scratchy. I'm just a bit jealous, that's all.' She sighed. 'Life seems to be such a b.l.o.o.d.y struggle at home at the moment, if you must know; screaming baby, filthy nappies, broken nights, a tiny flat and an absent husband. I'm sunk in the mire of s.h.i.+tty despair, and here you are in this palace ...' She gazed around wistfully. 'Seems you've really fallen on your feet this time, Luce.'

I hugged her back, relieved. This was some admission coming from Jess. 'Oh don't worry. It's not all beer and skittles,' I a.s.sured her magnanimously.

'Glad to hear it. Got to get my cynical teeth into something or I shall have withdrawal symptoms. And don't worry about tonight.' She winked. 'I shall sing for my supper and be as good as gold. You won't recognise your gracious, socially adept friend. I'll charm the pants off them.'

I grinned gratefully and settled them all in their rooms; Rozanna and Teresa sharing, Jess in with me, and the boys downstairs. Later we ate huge bowls of pasta and salad in the garden and drank far too much wine, roaring with laughter about anything at all, but particularly a story Rozanna recounted about Theo and Ray having a stand-up row on the corner of the road about which flowers to buy that week, which culminated in Ray hissing, 'Well, if we're going to have tulips, you can jolly well give me back my Calvin Klein underpants!'

The boys played happily the while, proudly showing Pietro the lie of the land, whilst the rest of us frittered away the afternoon; draining bottles dry, lying flat on our backs in a soporific haze, and exposing parts of our bodies that hadn't seen daylight for months. Occasionally someone would open one languid eye and murmur sleepily, 'So lovely here, Lucy. Just smell those roses!'

'And so quiet,' someone would murmur back.

I'd smile to myself, and I must admit to feeling rather smug and proprietorial, but I also occasionally sat up and glanced nervously over my shoulder lest Lavinia should wander into view, keen to join the party, staggering slightly, clinking her ice and lemon, all ready with a jolly 'Yoo-hoo!' to give Jess the thrill of her life. Happily, she stayed away.

Later that evening when we'd all abluted and changed into our party gear, there was much more to admire. It was a beautiful evening, and as we strolled across the fields and down to the lake, the sun was low in a hazy sky. I'd deliberately taken them a rather convoluted but pretty way; out of the back of the barn, through the b.u.t.tercup meadows where the willow trees waved their feathery fronds languidly in the evening breeze, and then down and across to the s.h.i.+mmering lake, which even the jaundiced Jess couldn't fail to admire. We crossed the wooden bridge, subtly exchanging nature for nurture as the wildflower meadows turned to manicured parkland, and then strolled up to Netherby, perched proudly on the hillside, bathed in evening sunlight.

'Dio mio,' said Teresa nervously, reaching out for Pietro's hand suddenly. 'What's this, Balmoral?'

'Don't be silly,' said Jess drily. 'Rose wouldn't stoop to showing visitors round like they do at Balmoral.'

'You're wrong actually,' I informed her. 'On Thursdays and Fridays an orderly queue forms and a little old lady from the National Trust performs the task in precisely forty minutes.'

'No! You mean there are state rooms, or something?' said Teresa.

'Certainly there are,' Jess a.s.sured her. 'There's even a throne room, through which the orderly queue has to file, heads bowed, tugging forelocks to Lady Rose, the enthroned one.'

Teresa laughed nervously. 'Now you kid me.'

'I do, but believe me, I wouldn't put it past her.'

'And you were going to behave,' I muttered as we approached the rose garden. It was thronging with glittering people.

'I know,' she sighed, 'but she doesn't half bring out the beast in me. Look at all this.'

We gazed around at the milling crowd, everyone chattering away at the tops of their voices in the dusky evening light, champagne gla.s.ses clinking. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees above, whilst below, roses in curved beds encircled the throng, mingling their heady scent with the musky nicotianas on the terrace.

'You know secretly, Lucy,' Jess confided in my ear, 'I'm a terrible little suburban sn.o.b. I adore Queen and Country and all that regalia, wouldn't swap it for any grotty little republic, and would biff on the nose any cad who suggested it, but this place makes me want to leap on the nearest chair and sing "The Red Flag".'

'For my sake, resist that temptation,' I begged grimly as we moved forward and muscled our way in.

I'd deliberately timed our entrance rather late, so that hopefully, most people had a.s.sembled, and my few extra guests could mingle with the crowd and not be too noticeable. Thus far this seemed a reasonable ploy, since the garden was indeed awash with people, but none, perhaps, quite so gorgeous as Rozanna, in a simple white linen s.h.i.+ft dress, slim arms and legs golden brown, her blonde hair tumbling down her back, and none, perhaps, quite so trendy as Teresa and Jess, in their tight little s.h.i.+mmering King's Road dresses and sling-backs. Rose was upon us in seconds.

'Who, my dear, is that beautiful girl?' she murmured, as I took a gla.s.s of champagne from a pa.s.sing waiter's tray.

'Hmmm?' Jess had cleverly slipped away, and I gazed about, pretending I hadn't the faintest idea. But there was no escape. She was pointing a bony finger now.

'Oh, that's Rozanna,' I said.

'Rozanna?'

'Rozanna Carling. She's staying with me tonight,' I added bravely, knocking back my champagne for courage. Rose looked startled. Clearly my message hadn't got through, but I took advantage of her silence to call Rozanna over. Surely she couldn't be rude to her face?

'Rozanna, this is Rose Fellowes, our hostess tonight'

Rozanna said h.e.l.lo, and Rose inclined her head, just a fraction. She gave a tight little smile and looked like she'd swallowed a lemon.

'My dear, you didn't say you had other guests,' she murmured, head still bowed.

'Oh, just one or two,' I said brazenly. 'And this,' I went on, emboldened, as Archie ambled up, 'is our host, Archie Fellowes. Rozanna Carling.'

Archie's eyes inexplicably popped, and he nearly bit clean through his champagne gla.s.s. 'Rozanna!' he gasped.

'We've met,' purred Rozanna, extending a golden arm. 'Archie, how lovely to see you.'

'Oh, er, yes. I - er ...' Archie spluttered as he took her hand, his face quite purple now. Sweat was beginning to bead on his brow.

'You've met?' Rose frowned. 'Where?'

'Oh. Now. Let me think. Where was it? Um ...' Archie stuttered.

'House of Lords,' said Rozanna quickly with a smile. 'A reception there, back in May. Remember, Archie?'

Was it?' He looked startled. 'Oh! Oh yes, yes, that was it. House of Lords. And you were down here, my dear.' He eyed his wife nervously, chewing his lower lip. 'Tending to the um, you know. The roses.'