A Perfect Home (15 page)

The weather was cooler now. The heatwave of the last month seemed to have burned itself out, just in time for the school holidays. It made Claire sad; the intense heat had seemed like a reminder of Stefan, and now she felt as if the light breeze that had blown all week was blowing him further away from her. She heard nothing. No payment in the post. No email of thanks for the parcel.

A visit from her mother seemed like a welcome distraction. Claire determined to pull herself together and find out what was going on in her mother's life, rather than moping around dwelling on her own.

An informal lunch of sandwiches and jam tarts finished, the children were ensconced in front of the television, enchanted by an old Elvis film they'd found on TCM. Claire sat Elizabeth down at the kitchen table and handed her a mug of tea.

‘Are you sure you're all right, Mum?'

‘Of course. Why?'

‘It's just you seem a bit different, not quite yourself.'

The sound of wheels on gravel made both women look out of the window. William's mother's car was standing on the drive.

‘I've always thought you needed something better than that old bench at the bottom of the stairs,' William's mother said as she instructed Claire and Elizabeth to help her lug a heavy piece of furniture from the back of her 4x4. ‘I found this lovely mahogany console table in a little shop in Tewksbury; it will be a surprise for William when he comes back. I think its early Georgian, just like the one we have in our hall at home.'

‘And I always thought you didn't like second-hand things,' said Elizabeth as they manhandled the table through the front door.

‘Antiques are not the same as second-hand,' William's mother's reply was curt.

‘You could have fooled me! Surely they've past through many hands. If this table's Georgian it's probably at least sixteenth- or seventeenth-hand by now.'

‘One needs to have been brought up in the finer echelons of society to appreciate the joy that quality antiques can give.'

Elizabeth put her end of the table down with a thud. ‘I thought you grew up above a bra shop in Bracknell.'

‘It was a purveyor of superior undergarments for ladies. Princess Margaret came in one day, you know.'

‘Was she lost and asking for directions?' Elizabeth muttered under her breath.

‘Anyone for a cup of tea?' asked Claire brightly.

As the three women sat in the conservatory Claire poured out the tea from a spotted teapot.

‘You're looking peaky, Claire,' said William's mother. ‘Wearing yourself out with that little business of yours.'

‘I'm hoping Claire will join me for a restful break in Cornwall in a few weeks' time,' said Elizabeth. ‘I've rented a nice cottage by the sea, I found it on the internet.'

‘We'll be going to visit our friends the Crawford-Campbells in their gorgeous barn conversion in Tuscany; we went last year and it was absolutely divine. They've just installed a hot tub and I can't wait to be sitting in it, drinking champagne and gazing out across those lovely rolling hills. Surely nothing could be better than that.'

Elizabeth glared at her but William's mother was oblivious.

‘Oh, Claire, I've just had the most wonderful thought,' William's mother heavy gold rings clicked together as she clapped her hands with excitement. ‘What about a hot tub outside the summer house? Wouldn't that be such fun? I'll talk to William about it, I'm sure he'll love the idea.'

Elizabeth started to say something but Claire quickly intercepted her.

‘I've designed a new range of peg bags with appliquéd socks and pants along a washing line on the front.'

‘You'll have to show us,' said Elizabeth.

‘Do people still use pegs?' said William's mother.

‘I'd like to shove her in her Italian hot tub head first,' said Elizabeth as they waved goodbye to William's mother from the front door. ‘Does she have any idea how real people live?'

‘She can't help it,' Claire was still waving and smiling at the retreating car. ‘She's just –'

‘Stuck-up,' finished Elizabeth. She looked at her watch. ‘I must go, I've loads to do.'

‘Like what?'

‘Like living my life to the full Claire! I'll just say cheerio to the children, pick up my handbag, and be off.'

‘But I was looking forward to a chat.'

Elizabeth smiled at her daughter. ‘Come to Cornwall, we'll have all the time in the world to chat then.'

The last day of term was also Ben's third birthday. The red and blue gingham bunting Claire had made especially for the party flapped and twisted in the drizzly wind. A group of anxious mothers sipped tea, nibbled on home-made shortbread, and sheltered in the conservatory as their children jostled noisily on the bouncy castle on the lawn.

‘Be careful, Oscar.'

‘Please be gentle with Ralph. He's only little.'

‘No, Tabitha. Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself, darling.'

Claire and Sally watched the other mothers through the kitchen window.

‘I hope my boys aren't being too rough,' said Sally, as she poured crisps into a stripy plastic bowl.

‘They're fine,' said Claire. ‘Those mothers from the nursery are so neurotic. Wait till they have a few more children. They'll soon give up worrying, and poor little Ralph and Tabitha will have to fend for themselves.'

Sally picked up a glass from a tray of untouched glasses.

‘I can't believe that none of them wanted Cava,' she said, taking a sip.

‘That won't last long either,' said Claire, laughing. ‘Give them a couple of years and they'll be downing sparkling rosé at lunchtime along with the rest of us.' She took a glass off the tray and drank it in one go as if to illustrate her point. She even picked up another glass, but could only manage the first quarter before she spluttered on the bubbles.

‘Are you all right, Claire?' Sally checked. ‘I thought I was the only afternoon binge-drinker round here.'

Claire shrugged. ‘I can't quite match you yet. I feel sick now.'

‘You haven't seemed quite yourself lately,' said Sally. ‘I'm sure there's less of you than there used to be. Have you been going to Weight Watchers behind my back?'

‘I'm fine.' She sliced up the obligatory cucumber and carrots.

‘New dress?'

‘I needed a little treat.'

Sally gently turned her around for a better look. ‘Ooooh. Very Marilyn Monroe.'

‘I've got new shoes too, but I can't walk more than a few yards in them.'

‘Taxi shoes.'

‘What?'

‘Oh, you know. Shoes that are so uncomfortable you can only wear them from the taxi to the entrance of the party. And I don't mean children's parties.'

‘They're the only kind of parties I get to go to these days,' sighed Claire. ‘Is it sad to spend days planning what you're going to wear to sit in someone's living room watching Charlie Chuckles and his Dancing Chipmunk while you shovel cheesy balls down your throat?'

‘Yes, Claire, that is sad,' Sally said, giving her arm a kindly stroke. ‘We definitely need to get you out. Life does go on after CBeebies Bedtime Hour you know.'

‘What about you?' asked Claire. ‘Are you still worried about Gareth?'

‘Oh that,' Sally laughed. ‘I don't know why I thought he was having an affair. Poor man, it turned out he was up for promotion at work and so he felt he'd better smarten up his appearance.'

‘Did he get the promotion?'

‘He hasn't heard yet. But you can imagine how guilty I felt. Poor Gareth. I didn't tell him that I was sure he had a bit on the side; he'd have thought I'd finally lost my mind. Anyway, I'm getting used to him without long hair. He looks quite sexy, actually.'

‘Can we play on the computer, Mum?' asked Oliver, red-faced and panting in the doorway. Behind him, Sally's boys looked similarly bounced out.

‘OK. I'll need to go and turn it on though. Wait a minute. Sally, can you arrange these cakes on the cake stand?' she asked, handing her a tin of miniature fairy cakes iced with ladybirds and bees. She'd made them the night before, staying up past midnight to postpone yet another sleepless night.

‘Wow,' said Sally, opening the tin. ‘You've surpassed yourself this time.'

‘Just some little things I knocked up last night.'

‘No need to show off,' called Sally from the kitchen.

Claire went into the study and turned on the computer.
A quick check of my emails whilst I'm here
, she thought. Through the open window she could hear the shrill squeals of children on the bouncy castle. Glancing up she saw that, as usual, Ben had taken all his clothes off, despite the weather. She skimmed through the junk mail and some new orders from her website and then suddenly she saw Stefan's name.

‘Come on, Mum,' said Oliver behind her. ‘Hurry up. We're waiting to play my new game.'

‘Just a minute.' She could hear her heart beating. Hardly daring to breathe, she clicked on the email.

Dear Claire,

Thank you so much for the beautiful apron. I gave it to my sister last night and she loved it – I knew she would.

I still need to pay you. You didn't say if you wanted a cheque or cash. Can I treat you to tea and cakes somewhere special to say thank you and I could pay you then? What about next Tuesday afternoon?

Stefan

Claire wanted to leap on the bouncy castle and bounce up and down for joy.
Next Tuesday. Somewhere special
. (That would be innocent enough. Only tea and cakes with a friend; not exactly breaking any marital vows.)

‘At last,' muttered Oliver as Claire turned round.

‘It's all yours, boys,' she said, an irrepressible smile across her face.

Claire walked back into the kitchen as calmly as she could.

‘What are you grinning about?' Sally asked, her mouth full. She was leaning against a worktop, working her way through a bowl of popcorn that had yet to reach the tea table.

For a second, Claire thought she would tell Sally, but then she remembered her friend's views on adultery and decided she'd interpret an innocent afternoon tea in completely the wrong way.

‘Oh nothing,' she said. ‘I have a favour to ask. Can you look after my three next Tuesday afternoon?'

‘Yes. Why?'

‘Something's come up,' said Claire, busying herself with opening a pack of Thomas the Tank Engine paper plates that Ben had insisted on. ‘I've got to see a customer.'

‘Is it another shop? Is it local? I hope it's not competition for the gallery, remember Anna's asked you not to stock anywhere too close to her shop.'

‘No, a private customer,' said Claire, avoiding eye contact.

Sally looked at her inquisitively. ‘Another bulk order of bunting?'

‘Something like that.'

Dear Stefan,

I am so glad your sister liked her apron. Cheque or cash is fine with me. Tea and cakes on Tuesday sounds lovely. Where did you have in mind? I'll meet you there.

Claire

Dear Claire,

I thought you might like a ride in my car. l'll pick you up. 2ish. OK with you?

S

Dear Stefan,

Meet me in the car park in town. 2.30 p.m. is better for me.

C

Dear Claire,

Meeting in the car park sounds a bit illicit! I'll be there at 2.30.

S

Claire thought about explaining to him that she would be in town anyway. It would be easier to meet him there – nothing illicit about it at all – but she knew this wouldn't be strictly true and so didn't answer, just waited for Tuesday. She would see him once, that was all. Just an innocent cup of tea.

Chapter Fifteen

‘Soft and pretty … Embroidered muslin curtains filter shafts of dappled sunlight.'

‘You look lovely,' said Sally, as Claire handed over the children. ‘It must be an important customer.'

Claire couldn't look at her. She fumbled in her handbag for Ben's spare nappies and his favourite bear.

‘Those new sandals really suit you.' Sally looked her up and down. ‘And your hair looks fab. Have you been to the hairdresser's today?'

‘No, I just spent a bit of time blow-drying it for once. I had to blackmail the children with chocolate and a new DVD to leave me alone long enough to do it.'

‘And your make-up looks gorgeous. Is that eyeliner you're wearing? You really do look like a fifties film star.'

The green halter-neck dress, worn with a short cropped jacket and her new strappy sandals, had made Claire feel glamorous as soon as she put them on.

‘You look pretty,' Emily had said before they left the house. ‘Like a princess. Daddy will like you when he comes home.' It had made Claire wince with a sudden stab of guilt.

‘It's just an innocent cup of tea,' she told herself for the hundredth time.

‘Thank you so much for having them.' Claire gave Sally a hug. ‘I hope Ben behaves for you.'

‘I'm sure he can't be as bad as my two.' Sally looked behind her into the cottage's chaotic hall; trainers, bags, and coats littered the small space. In the living room Ben could be glimpsed rolling on the sofa, laughing with glee as the twins and Oliver tried to tie him up. ‘Anyway, the boys already seem to have him under control. I'd better go and stop them from strangling him.'

‘I'll be back by six. I promise,' called Claire as she walked down the path to her car.

‘Don't worry,' called back Sally. ‘I hope it's a big order.'

A wave of guilt washed over Claire again; it was awful to lie to her best friend. She got into the car, determined to turn back up the hill, go home, tidy the house, do some washing, forget Stefan. Then she started the engine and, as though pulled by an irresistible force, she headed for town.