A Perfect Home (19 page)

‘I don't know how we got from fairy cakes and cups of tea to champagne and cigarettes so fast.'

‘I really am leading you astray,' he said and blew out a long stream of smoke.

She grinned at him. He kissed her. She didn't want the kiss to ever end. At last she pulled away.

Her blouse had come undone of its own accord. She hastily did it up before she exposed her bra to half of Soho.

Stefan laughed. ‘I had no idea it would be so easy to undress you.'

‘Look at me.' Claire was laughing too. ‘Snogging on park benches, clothes falling off, illicit cigarettes. I feel about fifteen years old.'

Stefan tenderly took her face between his hands and kissed her again.

‘When can I see you next?' he asked.

‘I'm frightened,' she said.

‘Of what?'

‘That you'll hurt me.'

‘I'd never do that.'

‘Promise?'

Their eyes met.

‘I promise,' he said, gently kissing the palm of her hand.

They were silent in the taxi to the station. Stefan held her close against him, his arm around her. He stroked her hair.

‘Don't come with me,' she said, as the taxi stopped outside the entrance. ‘I don't think I can manage an emotional goodbye on the station platform.'

‘No
Brief Encounter
moment?'

‘No,' she said softly, gently cupping his face with her hands, pulling it to hers, and kissing his lips.

‘When can I see you?' he asked her again. ‘Next week?'

‘I'm going to New York next week,' he said. ‘I'm doing a job there.'

Claire raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure you want to be with me? I don't think I fit in with your sophisticated jet-set, bachelor life.' She was only half joking.

‘You are a beautiful, stylish, and talented woman,' he said, kissing her briefly between each word. Then he sat back from her and looked at her seriously. ‘I don't know if you really want to get involved with me. A lonely, middle-aged photographer who photographs other people's happy lives instead of making one for himself.'

The taxi driver looked over his shoulder from the driver's seat. ‘Are you getting out or what?'

‘Will you be back by Friday?' She'd have to ask Sally again to mind the children. Or maybe she could ask her mother.

‘Yes.'

‘Meet me in the car park again,' said Claire, opening the taxi door. ‘Two o'clock.'

‘Where shall we go?'

‘Surprise me!'

She shut the door quickly and the rush hour commuters absorbed her in seconds. Now she was late for the 6.30 train. She only just made it, running down the platform, getting on just as the whistle blew for the train's departure.

Trying to catch her breath, Claire flopped into a seat. She felt stunned. Wasn't this what she had longed for: a declaration of his feelings, an opportunity to express hers? Why did she feel so shocked? So terrified? As the train slowly pulled through London's suburbs she felt calmer. She started to think back over the afternoon, remembering his kisses, his hands, the strong hard muscles of his back she had felt through his shirt. She remembered what he had said, how he had made her feel. Putting her hands to her cheeks she felt her face flush with the memories.

She tried to think about something else.
Supper
. What to cook for supper? Pasta? Sally would have fed the children, so it would be just her and William.
William
. She felt a huge wave of guilt wash over her. How could she face him tonight? Her head began to ache. She felt sick. Too much champagne. That cigarette had been a mad idea. The whole afternoon had been mad. Spaghetti Bolognese? She thought again. Pork chops and baked potatoes with peas? Stir-fry chicken and noodles?
Stefan lying on a bed
. How lovely it would be to be lying beside him. She closed her eyes, and tried to get rid of the image.
Trifle
, there was still trifle left from Sunday lunch – that would do for pudding.

Her phone buzzed with the sound of an incoming text.

I can't stop thinking about you.

She didn't reply, couldn't think how to reply.

She thought of the nice mothers at Ben's nursery, Mrs Wenham the headmistress, her own mother – what would they think?

‘Are you all right?' said Sally, opening the door to her. ‘You look really pale.'

‘I've got a migraine,' Claire replied. ‘I'm so sorry I'm late.'

‘It's fine. Everyone has been fine. We've had tea and Ben has had a bath after an accident with some spaghetti hoops.'

‘Thank you so much,' said Claire. ‘I owe you such a big favour.'

‘It's OK,' said Sally again. ‘Are you sure you're all right? You really don't look well.'

‘I just need to get home.'

‘Tell William to put the children to bed.'

‘I don't know when he'll be home. I think he said it would be late tonight.'

‘Well you go to bed yourself as soon as you can,' said Sally, looking concerned. ‘This is what happens when you go gallivanting in the city on your own. Next time take me!'

‘I know,' said Claire. ‘I think I could have done with a chaperone.'

Bedtime seemed to take ages. Ben went to sleep in the car on the way home. She desperately hoped that he would stay asleep and she could just carry him to bed. No such luck. He started screaming as soon as she lifted him from the car seat and then wanted
The Gruffalo
read four times in a row to get him to stay in bed. Emily had left her DS in Sally's house and demanded to be taken back to fetch it. When Claire said no she refused to get into her bed and locked herself in the bathroom.

‘Why are you such a horrible, Mummy?' she shouted from behind the door.

Oliver was hungry and decided to pour himself a bowl of Rice Krispies, spilling half the packet all over the kitchen floor, followed by a large splash of milk.

Claire was exhausted. At last they were all asleep. With great relief she was able to lie down in her own room. From her horizontal position on the bed she slipped off her skirt and blouse and slid between the cool sheets, still in her underwear. William wasn't home, and the house was blissfully dark and quiet. She lay with her head buried in her pillow, trying to smother the throbbing pain, trying to go to sleep.

Somewhere downstairs she could hear a phone, her mobile. It was the sound of a new text message. Could she wait until morning? She lay there feeling ill, but the thought of a text from Stefan gave her the strength to get up and go downstairs. Moonlight through the windows cast deep shadows in the hallway. Claire found her bag on the new consol table and searched through it in the semi-darkness for her phone.

Goodnight. I'll be dreaming of you.

Suddenly Claire heard the key turn in the lock of the front door. She was standing beside it. Quickly she turned her phone off and threw it into her bag; she dropped the bag onto the floor and kicked it under the table.

The door opened. William walked in and switched on the light.

‘What are you doing?' he asked, looking at Claire standing in her bra and pants in the middle of the hall.

She started to laugh, despite her headache, suddenly aware that this could look like some misjudged attempt at seduction.

‘Why are you laughing?' he said crossly. ‘What's going on?'

‘I thought I heard a noise,' she said. ‘I've been in bed. I've got a really bad headache, but I heard something, so I came down to check.'

‘I've got a bit of a headache too,' he said, rubbing his temples. ‘Though after the day I've had, I'm not surprised!'

‘Oh dear,' said Claire, trying to sound sympathetic, but starting to climb the stairs at the same time.

‘Why were you in bed in your underwear?' he asked.

‘Because I couldn't be bothered to take it off,' she sighed, slowly climbing a few steps more.

‘What's for supper?' William called up after her as she made it through the bedroom door.

‘Trifle,' she replied and collapsed back into bed.

Chapter Seventeen

‘
The overall effect is stunning.'

Good morning. S.

Claire had waited until William had left for work before turning on her phone.

Good morning. C.

What are you doing?

Making breakfast. What are you doing?

Lying in bed remembering yesterday.

Nice memories?

Very.

I wish I was with you.

Claire was making pancakes. It was a breakfast treat usually reserved for Sundays, but she wanted to do something special for the children to make up for her day away from them. They were still asleep. In a minute she would wake them up.

Her phone buzzed again. She looked at the message, expecting it to be another from Stefan. It was from her mother.

Hello darling. Are you coming to Cornwall? Love Mum x

Claire couldn't think about Cornwall. She couldn't think about the future at all. The next time she could see Stefan again was as far as she could go.

All day Claire felt as though her mind was whirling, her stomach tight with fear and happiness. She went over and over the previous afternoon in her head remembering every detail, every moment, every word.

I miss you
, he sent as she walked down the aisles in Waitrose, trying to concentrate on what to buy and stop Oliver and Emily filling the trolley with sweets.

Thinking of your beautiful eyes
, as she sat with a group of other mothers at a Play Barn birthday party, drinking a tasteless cappuccino and trying to keep Ben in sight as he careered down terrifying slides into a ball-filled enclosure.

This time yesterday you were in my arms
, as she scraped ground-in Play Dough from the coir matting on the stairs.

As she was making macaroni cheese for tea, her mother phoned.

‘Did you get my text?'

‘Yes, Mum,' said Claire, trying to stop Ben from climbing onto a chair beside the stove.

‘And I sent an email you haven't answered. I was ringing all day yesterday and you weren't there. Are you all right?'

‘I'm fine, Mum. Just a bit busy.'

‘You sound odd.'

‘Thanks! Are you all right?'

‘I'll tell you how I am when I see you,' her mother replied mysteriously. ‘Can you get away for a few days to come to Cornwall?'

‘I'm still not sure,' said Claire, stirring pasta into the cheese sauce. ‘No. It's too hot!'

‘Pardon?'

‘Sorry, Mum. Ben is trying to steal bits of pasta from the saucepan.'

‘Just for three or four days. I'd love to see the children playing on the beach by the cottage. It looks beautiful on the internet. The children will love it.'

‘Yes, I know,' said Claire. ‘I'll try my best. Ben, get down and go and play with Emily.'

‘Do you have a webcam on your computer? I've just bought one. If you have one we could talk and I could see you at the same time.'

‘No, we don't have a webcam,' Claire said, wondering what other pieces of technology her mother was about to embrace.

‘Well you'll have to get one. You've got to keep up, Claire.'

‘But what if I can't come to Cornwall? Can you cancel the cottage?'

‘Oh, that doesn't matter; I'll be going there anyway.'

‘Are you sure you're all right?' asked Claire. She was worried about her mother, she realised she hardly ever phoned in the evening and it was two weeks since she'd been to visit.

‘Better than ever. Let me know if you can come. I'd love you to be there.'

‘Would you be able to come and look after the children for me next Friday?'
Please say yes
, thought Claire.

‘Sorry, I'll be busy next Friday. Is it something important? If it's work you should make William take some time off to look after the children. He really should take what you do more seriously.'

‘It's all right Mum, I'll sort something out with him.'

‘Look I must go. I'm running late.'

Claire suddenly had a huge urge to confide in her mother. She took a deep breath. ‘Mum, I want to tell you something …' But her mother had already gone. Claire stood staring at the phone in her hand.

‘It's probably for the best; I don't need to tell anyone. Just my little secret.'

‘Secret, secret,' echoed Ben.

William was home early with flowers.

‘What have I done to deserve these?' asked Claire, looking at the bunch of white lilies in his hand. She hesitated before taking them from him. Her grandmother always told her white lilies were for innocence and she felt drenched in guilt.

‘I just thought I'd been neglecting you lately,' he said. ‘When I saw you last night with your bad headache, looking so thin, I was worried about you. I wanted to let you know that even though I might work late or be busy building the summer house, I do think of you.' He took her in her arms and hugged her. Claire hadn't expected this at all.

‘I think you need a little treat,' William said, still holding her.

‘Do I?'

‘I've booked a table for two, just you and me, at the Italian Bistro in town for this Saturday night. I've asked my parents to come down to babysit.'

‘Oh, how lovely,' she said, trying her best to sound enthusiastic.

‘You deserve it, darling,' he said. ‘I know how hard you work with the children and your little business.' He lifted her chin and kissed her mouth; his lips felt dry and rough.

‘Yuk,' said Oliver, walking in the room. ‘That's disgusting. Stop it.'

William let go of Claire and scooped Oliver up into a fireman's lift and ran with him around the room.

‘Mum,' Oliver called through breathless laughter. ‘Your phone was ringing.' He held it out in his hand from his position over William's shoulder.