Nine Ten Begin Again: A Grasshopper Lawns affair Read online

  Edge looked at her suspiciously, then laughed and patted back another yawn.

  ‘Don’t you dare mock your aunt. He looked after me very nicely, thank you. And the adventure was fun. In retrospect I can’t say I was thrilled to find myself in the same world as—no, never mind. Donald says we shouldn’t talk about people we recognized at the clubs. I wasn’t thrilled to find two people I don’t much care for were also there, put it that way. Took a bit of the sparkle out of it.’

  ‘It wasn’t Coppelia’s, by any chance? Because I heard there was a raid there, some rough types had to be moved on. And one had to be taken to hospital. He’s had rape charges laid against him before, but when our blokes arrived he shouted that he wanted to lay charges of assault and battery. He’d been kneed in the nose by a woman he was trying to drag down from some kind of high chair. She broke his nose, too; tough cookie. She was girning bitterly about getting his blood on her outfit.’

  Edge choked on her tea and had to be patted on the back.

  ‘White leather? Excellent! She did look tough. Good for her!’

  ‘Edge, it’s not funny.’ Kirsty did laugh, though, even as she shook her head. ‘So that is where you were? You were lucky to get away before the goons arrived.’

  Edge nodded meekly, her tired eyes sparkling, and Kirsty shook her head again. ‘I like Donald, and I am glad you’re together, but I’m going to have to tell him there’ll be no more dodgy outings.’ Edge nodded again, looking mischievous, and Kirsty tutted.

  ‘I’ve always taken your advice. If you won’t take mine, I don’t know what to say next.’

  ‘Oh darling, I’m not rejecting your advice. You haven’t actually given me any, anyway. I used to tell you to know what you were getting into, and if you weren’t sure, to talk it through with me. At the very least I wanted you to trust the people you were with, whether it was going canoeing down rapids, or when you first started going out at night. I don’t know what I’m getting into, but Donald has always been protective, you know that. He had no intention of leading me into anything dodgy. He was even more horrified by the Coppelia’s incident than you are. I trust him utterly, and my instincts have never let me down yet.’

  Kirsty eyed her uneasily, then glanced at her watch.

  ‘I have to go, I promised Drew I’d be home by seven. Just remember, love is like the measles: all the worse when you get it late in life. Be careful.’ They both stood up and Kirsty hugged her aunt impulsively. ‘And get some sleep! You look as if you’re about to fall over!’

  Vivian was standing at the door, her hand raised to knock, as Edge opened it.

  ‘Nice timing,’ she said comfortably. ‘I’m glad you’re all right. Donald says your mobile is switched off and you’re not answering your phone, so he insisted I come check on you.’

  Edge looked surprised. ‘I did turn the sound off on the phone, but he didn’t leave a message, I’d have seen the light blinking. Why was he phoning?’

  ‘He just probably wanted to talk. This is a relationship now, you know!’ Vivian teased as Edge invited her inside, and she shook her head.

  ‘Not really. He said we stay as we were—friends who, well, enjoy extras. He wouldn’t normally phone me when he was away unless he thought of something to do with Odette.’

  ‘You could have left her with me, you know, and gone with him, or wasn’t that an option?’

  ‘Thanks, Vivian, he did offer but I was as glad to take time out. This whole thing needs a bit of thinking out.’

  ‘Why do I feel you’re about to tell Vivian a whole bunch of stuff you wouldn’t tell me?’ Kirsty remarked, smiling, and left, slightly regretfully.

  Edge switched on the kettle again and Vivian sat down on the edge of the sofa.

  ‘A quick cup then. I know you’re tired. Thinking out? What happened to delight?’

  ‘Still there, but I have had time to think a bit, and I’m a bit unnerved. Donald’s never been in what you or I would consider a conventional relationship, and I’ve never been in one that was unconventional. Phone calls, now. What’s that about?’

  ‘Well, you’re going to have to feel your way. Never in a conventional relationship?’

  ‘No. He went into a foster home when he was two. He says they were nice enough people, no horror stories, but to them fostering was a job. There were always six kids that they fed and clothed and took on holidays but they were emotionally quite detached. He started as the youngest, was the second oldest by the time his English teacher started insisting he should to be going to theatre school. They told the authorities they couldn’t cope with that and he would have to go to another family. He went instead into a kind of boarding set-up specifically for the theatre school.’

  Vivian accepted her cup of tea and sat back. ‘That’s a bit cold. I actually meant love affairs, although his family life explains a bit.’

  ‘You heard the tattoo story. There were affairs. He was fifteen when he started theatre school, and suddenly being eyed up by both sexes. That’s when he met Seb Gandry. Seb was several years older, became something of a mentor. Donald said he was a true friend, never hit on him, but instead told him not to rush into anything physical, to wait until he felt a real attraction to someone, male or female. He fell in love once, when he was nineteen, with an actress in her late twenties, and they had an affair which to her was purely physical. She was married to a much older man, a big wheel producer, and dumped him when he wanted to get serious. Wouldn’t see him again.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Edge. I never realized. No wonder he comes across as remote.’

  ‘Well, yes. He wasn’t kidding when he told us once he doesn’t like actresses. With those odd hours, the years he spent touring, it wasn’t so easy to meet women who weren’t either actresses or star-struck fans. He started having daytime affairs with married women, which he said meant lots of quality sex and absolute secrecy.’ She hesitated, then added reluctantly, ‘He didn’t call it quality sex. In fact he’s quite harsh, almost despising, when he talks about it. That’s part of the bit I didn’t want to tell Kirsty.’

  Vivian finished her tea and stood up decisively. ‘I’m not surprised. Neither am I surprised that it bugged you. We’re very old-fashioned, you and I. Just tell him. I was straight with William—there’ll be none of that sort of language, I’m not that sort of woman. Like it or lump it. He laughs at me, but he respects my wishes. Respects me. Edge, I’m going now, you look as if you’re about to fall asleep on your feet and you still need to phone him back. I’ll keep Odette overnight, you get some proper sleep and we’ll catch up tomorrow.’

  Clarissa is agog

  The driving sleet finally stopped shortly before noon the next day and Edge, well wrapped up and with Odette in her MacDonald tartan jacket, met Vivian and her dog, Buster, for a belated walk. They were heading back across the top of the campsite when Maggie, Clarissa’s bulldog cross, lumbered up to join the dogs while Clarissa waved and quickened her pace to come up with them.

  ‘That Bateman woman is practically knocking William’s door down,’ she said breathlessly as she came within earshot. ‘I stopped to tell her that he never answers when he’s writing and she looked me up and down and went straight back to knocking! Such a rude woman. She’s on a campaign to blacken poor Hamish’s reputation and look super-efficient by contrast, if you ask me, but her natural charm should work in his favour. Why are you walking Odette? Where’s Donald?’

  ‘London,’ Edge, to her intense annoyance, felt heat in her cheeks and Clarissa gave her a sharp look.

  ‘And you’re looking after Odette? You don’t usually, surely?’

  ‘Edge found out you were right all along, Clarissa. Don’t tease her, she’s still in shock.’ Vivian smiled at Clarissa, who looked avid.

  ‘Really? Well, about time! When did you realize?’

  Edge laughed a little uncomfortably. ‘We were out on Wednesday night. As friends. And don’t gloat about being right, Clarissa, he’s not exactly a conventional straight m
an. God, he’s zipped me into clothes, made me change bras to get a better bust-line in a specific outfit. It should have been like getting jumped by Gok Wan. Vivian didn’t suspect either, did you? ’

  ‘William never believed he was gay, but you know that. I was like you, I thought he had to be, because the two of you were so close but not physical. You must have nearly had a heart attack when he did make his move. Was it actually at the club?’

  ‘Outside, afterwards. He says it was the last thing he intended to do—had ever intended to do. We really like being friends, you know. It’s the first real friendship with someone of the opposite sex that either of us have ever had, and we’re determined to hang on to that: the friendship comes first. Anyway, I don’t know about you two but I’m frozen, I really need some coffee.’

  Clarissa, looking a little disappointed, said she would finish her walk and Vivian and Edge called the dogs back from following Maggie.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t think.’ Vivian was remorseful. ‘But she’s not really a gossip, you know, except with you and me. Are you hoping to keep it quiet? I don’t think you’ll be able to. There’s an almost tangible crackling between you, I could see it instantly, and you were getting some odd looks at lunch yesterday. Clarissa picked up on it straight away, too, just you on your own.’

  ‘I don’t want to advertise us, put it that way. And I really don’t want it getting out about the club. I didn’t think it was a big deal, despite what you said, but Kirsty was definitely shocked. She’s always liked Donald but the fact that he took me to one, especially a place that was raided and where dodgy stuff started happening, well, she’s really disapproving. I can see now how it could be horribly misinterpreted. He certainly didn’t have any hidden agenda, he was taking a friend along to share a glimpse of part of his life. Having said that, the leather outfit definitely did trigger the first kiss! Then when I didn’t pull away, he couldn’t resist pushing further. He’d always thought I was quite, well, cold.’

  She shot Vivian a wry sidelong glance. ‘And now every song I hear seems to be about us, it’s too corny for words, I feel about fifteen. It’s so odd.’

  They crossed the road and headed to Edge’s apartment, letting themselves in out of the icy wind with relief.

  ‘Talk about cold, my ears actually hurt.’ Vivian took off her parka and rubbed them vigorously. ‘But I know what you mean. You’ve always had your feet firmly on the ground, no matter how much in love you were. Now you’re bobbing like a balloon. So what happens next? You can’t move in together, the Trust doesn’t allow that. You won’t leave, will you?’

  Vivian switched on the kettle as Edge lit the fire and struggled with the unfamiliar clips of Odette’s coat.

  She looked up to shake her head. ‘Heavens no, no plans of that sort. We’ve exchanged keys, but that’s all. I’m half afraid of his getting back, to be honest. I simply can’t imagine a relationship based on passion. Sex was always something that, well, made the men I loved happy. Nothing more. This was the very last thing I ever expected to happen to me.’

  She stared into space, a crease between her brows, then lifted the coat off the dog and straightened up.

  ‘I have to keep reminding myself we are genuinely good friends, and we both want to work this out. You and William have a good set-up, I suppose we’ll drift into something like that?’

  ‘William and I don’t crackle when we look at each other.’ Vivian made coffee for them both and handed hers over. ‘He writes for a strict minimum of three hours a day, up to six when a book’s going well, and won’t tolerate anyone around when he’s writing. I’ve no desire to move into the bungalow with him anyway, because he snores like—well, it’s hard to imagine anything that snores like William. It takes me three nights to catch up on my sleep after a weekend away. So I potter on with my life and he potters on with his and we are both very pleased indeed to have each other’s company when we do meet up. We’re like an old married couple in a particularly enormous house. Don’t fret about it: things have a way of working out. You’re going down to Devon soon, so that’ll give you another break from each other. What do you want, long term?’

  ‘I have no idea! Probably the same as we were, once we get over the first novelty, and every now and then get together and send up a few rockets.’ Edge shrugged. ‘Maybe, in time, when he’s had time to get used to the idea—and when I have, for that matter—we’ll try a weekend away, or even a short holiday. But you’re right about the crackling. We do have to get that out of our systems fairly soon because it’s exhausting. Very exciting, shaking like a pylon in a high wind every time I think about him, but not at all peaceful!’

  Chapter 5 – overnight Friday November 15th

  Donald’s return

  The cat made a surprised sound deep in his throat and stood up, front paws on Edge’s hip and his head cocked. She half woke, and had a brief moment of alarm when she heard movement in the main room, then remembered Odette was sleeping there. She was snuggling back down when she heard a key in the door and her eyebrows went up. She didn’t switch on a light but lay in the dark listening as Donald murmured to his delighted dog. Was he just collecting the animal? Her senses were already thrumming with anticipation, but she also knew indignation and a kind of dismay that she had put herself in the situation where this man, who had used women all his adult life, could feel he was entitled to walk in whenever he wanted. She stiffened and kept her back turned defensively, wishing she was wearing more than a gossamer-thin nightgown, as he came into her sleeping alcove. She heard the rustle of clothes, then he lifted the duvet and slipped quietly into her bed.

  ‘Are you awake?’ His voice was barely a murmur.

  ‘Mmm-hmm.’

  He laughed softly. ‘Sorry I woke you. I thought I’d just creep in. Don’t wake up too much.’ He folded his length, egg and spoon, against hers, and sighed with pleasure. ‘But good. If you hadn’t woken up, I couldn’t have closed in. This is what I call an efficient heating system. Top to toe hot water bottle. God, it’s cold out there.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  He rested his left hand almost impersonally on her hip and she covered it with her own and tried to match his unexpected prosaicness, keeping her voice steady with an effort.

  ‘Your hand’s freezing. What time is it?’

  ‘I think it’s about four. I’m shattered. Two minutes borrowing some of your lovely warmth and then I’ll be out like a light. You smell heavenly, like freshly-made toast. Sorry I woke you,’ he repeated and she smiled a little shakily into her pillow.

  ‘Well, ice-cold men creep in here all the time, although I usually sleep through.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. You’re nice to creep in with. If this winter gets any colder I’ll be doing it all the time.’

  ‘Does that also fit under the heading of friends with benefits?’

  ‘If you can tell me a bigger benefit than this, I’d be interested to hear about it. Okay, apart from the obvious.’

  His cold nose brushed the nape of her neck as he nuzzled at her, and then he was still, breathing quietly.

  She lay as still, even the thrumming slowing, her thoughts chaotic. That was it? She had braced to resist a seduction, even argue, but that he would slip into her bed as though by right, as though they had been bed-mates for years, just to sleep, threw her completely.

  There was no way she could fall asleep herself, not with him so close. She felt charged with electricity, every sense snapped to high alert, intensely aware of his presence. It was, of course, a relief that he didn’t expect her to fall into his arms, but now she could acknowledge how much she wanted to. That was unexpected and needed to be thought through. She should shift away, put some distance between them so that she could think . . .

  She had assumed he had already dropped off when he murmured, ‘Are you still awake?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘I missed you. I mean, really missed you. Breakfast was the worst. Who misses having breakfast with someone? I did a
six-hour drive through the night so I wouldn’t have to have another breakfast on my own. I’m not looking forward to you going down to Devon.’

  She felt abruptly deflated. Her previous lover had said something similar about her trip to Florida, had gone on and on about it, then had stubbornly followed her. Whatever she had expected from Donald, it wasn’t possessiveness.

  ‘I don’t have to go, but I want to. This will be a whole new experience for me.’

  ‘An important one, you’re going to love it. But I’ll miss you like hell. Wasn’t going to lose a single breakfast in the meantime.’

  His hand slipped from her hip around her waist to draw her closer and he sighed sleepily. She realized that he really wasn’t going to nag. Relief washed through her, and she suddenly knew with certainty that she would miss him too.

  ‘It isn’t that far.’ She was hesitant, almost shy. ‘Nothing to stop you coming down.’

  Another, longer, pause before he said doubtfully, ‘You and me alone, for two weeks?’

  She shook with sudden laughter. ‘Hardly alone, I’ll be working most of every day, and there are quite a few social plans being mooted. And I didn’t mean the whole two weeks. But you know if this, us, works out, we’ll probably end up going on holidays together, so this could be a kind of trial run. See if we can bear each other’s company for longer spells. It was just an idea.’

  ‘I like it. But no more laughing, or we’ll never get to sleep. Hot water bottles are not supposed to shake in disturbing ways.’

  ‘My hot water bottle is covered in fur, and squashy. I’m not sure I’m flattered by the simile.’

  She could hear the answering smile in his voice as he ran his hand gently up her stomach.

  ‘Not squashy. Not covered in fur. I think you’re right, you’re not a hot water bottle at all. Oh, hang on, found a squashy bit.’

  She sucked in air, Mortimer walked across them and jumped heavily to the floor in a marked manner, and Donald gave a tiny huff of laughter and moved his hand back to her hip.