Authors: Kate Saunders
Bachelor Boys (9 page)
We were ready to begin. I nodded up at the window. “Phoebe won't hear us, will she?”
“Not unless we start shouting,” Fritz said. “Come on, Cassâwhat've you got for us? When do we get to meet them?”
“Well ⦔ Facing them both, I suddenly felt foolish. “I thought I'd start by having a dinner party.”
Both Darlings groaned.
“Oh God, hours of ennui,” Fritz said. “Can I wear my Walkman?”
“Don't be so rude.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Darling, I'm joking. Lighten up. If you want us to come to one of your dinners, of course we'll do it.”
I hadn't expected them to love the idea (I knew it wasn't ideal), but I had to be firm. “Sorry, but there aren't really any other options. Unless you can think of something better.”
“I can,” Ben said. “You should have a cocktail party. You knowâwine and nuts and things on sticks, which are far less work than a whole dinner. You could invite all the girls on your list, then we could meet them all in one go. It would be a huge time-saver. We could size up the whole lot in about ten minutes and reject the ones we don't like.”
“What a sensible notion,” Fritz said, a glint of humor in his wicked black eyes. “We could call that the first heat, and save the dinner for the second heat. The girls who get through to the third heat would get one-to-one dinners and an experimental snog.”
“And full sex could be the semi-finals,” Ben suggested. “What? What's so funny?”
Fritz erupted into a great shout of laughter, uncannily like one of Jimmy's howls. “You arse, you can't put them through a cattle market!”
“Why not?”
I was also laughing. “Shall we get them to parade in evening wear or swimsuits?”
“Oh, I see,” Ben said, a little huffily. “You think they might find it a bit humiliating.”
“I fear Cass is right,” Fritz said. “A dinner party is probably the only sensible option. And it's nice of her to suggest itâlast time she invited me to dinner, I accidentally broke the bathroom blind.”
I laughed harder, pushing away the memory of that dismal evening, back in the days before I met Matthew and discovered perfection. “It'll all be different this time. You only did it because you were drunk. And you were only drunk because I imagined I could cook a leg of lamb. This time I won't choose something that's still pink at ten thirty.”
“All right. And I'll go easy on the wine.”
“It mustn't be too formal, though,” Ben said. “I don't feel we're at our best in a formal setting.”
I had to remove Ben's prejudice about formality. “Yes, but the first impression has to be stunningâglossy and sexy and upmarket and generally grown-up.”
My tumult of words made Fritz laugh againâI was glad to see that he had cheered up enormously, but worried that he was not taking the matchmaking seriously. “Okay, we get the idea.”
“Before we set a date, we ought to think about the first two candidates. Annabel Levett is single at the moment.”
There was a dispiriting silence, during which Fritz and Ben stared at me with stony faces.
“Annabel?” Ben obviously thought I was mad.
Fritz asked, “Whatâas in your fat little friend who cries when she sees a spider?”
I couldn't let them dismiss Annabel. “She's thirty-one now, and she hasn't been fat since she was fifteen. She's beautiful.”
“So why is she single? What's the matter with her?”
“Nothing!” I had to breathe hard not to snap this.
Ben was frowning thoughtfully. “No, she really is great-looking these daysâI've seen her more recently than you have. She's lovely, actually.”
I smiled at him gratefully. “You'd like her to come to the dinner, wouldn't you?”
“Oh,” Ben said, “I always like to see her. But I don't want to marry her or anything.”
“Why not, for God's sake?” This time, it definitely came out as a snap.
“How can you know you don't want to marry her until you've spent some proper time with her?”
“How can you know you don't want to marry her until you've spent some proper time with her?”
Ben was shaking his lustrous head. “Sorry. We go back too far. Fancying Annabel would just be weird and slightly pervy. Like fancying you.”
“Hang on,” Fritz said. “There's nothing pervy about fancying Cassie. I quite fancy her.”
“Pervert,” Ben said.
“She's not our biological sister. It's perfectly all right for us to notice that she's really pretty.” He gave me an affectionate version of his wolfish grin.
I was unprepared for the warm rush of blood I felt when Fritz said I was pretty. I hurried on light-headedly. “Ben, won't you let me invite Annabel for you? Just so you can see her properly?”
“Maybe when I've seen all the others.”
Fritz emptied his can of beer. “That's settled, thenâAnnabel's on the reserve list. Who's next?”
This wasn't going as smoothly as I had planned. If Annabel wasn't good enough for them, who would be?
I had carried my briefcase out into the garden. I extracted a copy of Hazel's magazine, folded open at the shot of its foxy young editor.
“Hazel Flynn,” I said. “Fritz, you probably met her at Oxford when her hair was a different color.”
This was better. The boys passed the magazine between them, each taking several long looks. It was a wonderful photographâHazel had been immaculately made up, and was the epitome of slinky.
“The hair used to be red,” Fritz said, staring at her. “I think she made a pass at me at some ball or other, but I was too smashed to do anything about it. And I always felt it was rather a shame.” He handed back the magazine. “Okay.”
“May I invite her, then?”
“Absolutely. Great pair of legs on her.”
“Don't assume she's automatically yours,” Ben said crossly. “She might prefer me.”
I hissed, “Don't start fighting! Do you want Phoebe to hear us? Hazel won't be the only woman there.”
Ben was poised on the brink of a sulk. “What else have you got, then?”
“A couple of Matthew's colleaguesâ”
“Lawyers, eh?” Fritz said. “Count me out. Ben can have the lady mooses.”
“Fritz, will you shut up? Their names are Elspeth and Rose, and they're both brilliant.”
Ben asked, “How pretty are they?”
Fritz added, “On a scale of one to ten.”
I ignored his insolence. “Elspeth's tall and paleâvery slender and elegantâwith dark hair.” (I didn't add that she wore scarlet lipstick and bore a strong resemblance to the wicked queen in “Snow White”.) “And Rose is short and a tad plump, but very pretty and amazingly nice.”
“We'll take Elspeth,” Fritz said. “She piques my interest. What do you say, Ben?”
“Actually, before you make up my mind for me,” Ben said crossly, “I think we should try the plump one. They usually have far better breasts than skinny girls.”
I had known before I started that the selection process would be distasteful, but this was getting too rank for wordsâthe feminist in me, bound and gagged, writhed in outrage.
I said, “You're not getting near either of them unless you show some respect.”
They both murmured, “Sorry,” unconvincingly.
“These are allâevery single oneâtotally gorgeous women,” I said. “But this can't just be about superficial sex appeal. We're playing for much higher stakes.”
“True love begins in the gonads,” Fritz said. “This is how it works for us, so pay attention.” He leaned across the table, more than half serious. “You see a girl, and suddenly you'll die if you don't get her straight into bed. You do it, and you immediately want more. You want to stay inside her forever. And then you notice how much you like her, and how everything's great when you're with her. And then you're in love.”
His eyes were as black and gleaming as the top of new Marmite, and when he uttered the word “love,” with intense and almost aggressive energy, I felt a sudden, embarrassing blush of heat between my legs.
Ben nodded agreement. “It can happen amazingly fast.”
“My point is, dear Grimble, that sexual attraction is how it starts. So if you're throwing us a lot of moose-faced high achievers with lovely natures, we're all wasting our time.”
“Dear Fritz, would I ever be so foolish?” The blush had cooled, and I was myself again. “I never forget how fussy you are. You're the man who turned down a Page Three girl because her ankles were too thick.”
“Such a waste,” Ben said, chuckling. “Mum really liked her, too.”
“I only fall in love with beautiful women,” Fritz said.
This was true. All Fritz's girlfriends had been beauties. Thinking about it gave me a feeling of inadequacy, mingled with vague disappointment. It was just as well, I thought, that I'd given up fancying Fritz. I'm not at all bad looking, but his women were way out of my league.
I stood up. “You'll just have to trust me. I'll give you plenty of warning about the dinnerâbut don't wait to buy those suits. And Fritz, please don't mess it all up on purpose. I'm putting a lot of work into this.”
“I promise you perfect behavior. I won't get drunk. I'll be interested in anecdotes about corporate law. If I have to talk about politics, I'll remember to say âConservative' instead of âscum.'”
I snorted with laughter. “Come on, for the last time, Matthew only voted for them once.”
Fritz could be evil sometimes. He knew I was sensitive about this. The fact was, I wasn't sure about Matthew's politics. One or two things he had muttered while reading the papers had made me wince. I didn't dig deeper for fear of what I might find.
But I wasn't going to let Fritz annoy me. We had done well. I kissed them both, and went up the basement staircase to Phoebe's part of the house (“The Mainland,” as Jimmy used to call it). I stood in the hall, listening to the silence. A solid bar of evening sunlight lay across one wall, glinting on the gilt picture frames. The air was full of golden specks of dust, swirling with hypnotic slowness.
“Hiâit's me,” I called softly.
“Oh darling, how lovely.” Phoebe's voice was as warm and youthful as ever, so that it was a slight shock to find her stretched out on the sofa, covered with the old bluebell quilt her mother had made. There was a small table beside her, crowded with sinister brown bottles, tissues, glasses,
paperbacksâa collection you only see at the bedsides of invalids. I think this was the first time I had ever seen Phoebe looking like an ill person. She lay in a cradle of cushions, with the phone at the ends of her fingers. I kissed her forehead. Her skin felt as frail as tissue paper.
paperbacksâa collection you only see at the bedsides of invalids. I think this was the first time I had ever seen Phoebe looking like an ill person. She lay in a cradle of cushions, with the phone at the ends of her fingers. I kissed her forehead. Her skin felt as frail as tissue paper.
She sat herself up, however, with reassuring briskness. “Isn't it wonderful about Fritz and Madeleine?”
We laughed together gleefully, like Dastardly and Muttley, and my spirits rose.
“My matchmaking is going extremely well,” I told her. “We have a scheduled dinner party at my house, which will include two very eligible young ladies.”
I described Hazel and Elspeth. Phoebe wanted every detail, and was disappointed that I only had a photograph of Hazel.
“But I'm sure they're both lovely. Let's do them a stupendously romantic dinner. Something so meltingly delicious that they can't help losing their hearts.”
“All well and good,” I said, “but I have to cook it, don't forget.”
“Can't Iâ”
“Phoebe, don't be insane. If Fritz finds you doing a single thing for this dinner, he'll kill me.”
She smiled, not convincedâbut not arguing either, because she was so proud of Fritz and the care he took of her. “All right, I won't cook anything. But I can lend you the damask cloth and the napkins.”
“Oh, I've got a tablecloth.”
“That checked thing?” Phoebe shook her head sorrowfully. “That won't do at all. You'll need the candelabra, too. It looks magnificent, and it hides the brown stain in the middle of the cloth.”
“It all sounds a bit grand, and my flat's a hovel.”
“Everything looks better by candlelight,” Phoebe said confidently.
“I suppose so. Should I have flowers? Or is that too la-di-da?”
“Definitely flowers,” Phoebe said firmly. “And that's something you must allow me to help with. I mean itâwhatever Fritz says. You're a disaster with flowers.”
“I know.” My lopsided arrangements were famously inept. I had to admit, it was a huge relief to me that Phoebe was up to giving advice. I needed it, and I needed the comforting sense that she was still there.
Other books
A Perfect Fit by Lynne Gentry
Monkey Business by Leslie Margolis
Infinity by Charles E. Borjas, E. Michaels, Chester Johnson
Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe by Jenny Colgan
Pat of Silver Bush by Montgomery, Lucy Maud
The Potter's Field by Andrea Camilleri
Damaged Goods by Austin Camacho
Where I Live by Eileen Spinelli
Just a Memory by Lois Carroll
Now You See Me by Kris Fletcher