Caught in the Act (12 page)

She held his gaze. ‘But you got the job?'

He nodded. ‘What can I tell you? I'm cheap.'

She got the job and didn't see him again until the official re-opening, when the nobs were out in force, itching to cut ribbons and shake hands. Raf ambled up to Carol, wearing a crumpled cream linen suit and carrying two glasses of champagne.

‘I was hoping you'd consider my idea of putting up corrugated iron sheeting round the bloody thing.'

‘They wouldn't cough up for the posts,' she said, halfway through a plate of nibbles.

He didn't move. Carol nodded towards the second glass he was holding. ‘Am I keeping you?' she said, imagining a wife or girlfriend tucked away somewhere amongst the big hats and official chain brigade.

He considered for an instant. ‘No, I think I'd prefer to work after we're married but I might consider going part time.'

He handed her the glass.

She was herself with him, totally relaxed and whole and funny and horrible, warts and all. Carol took a deep breath trying to quell the rising tendrils of guilt and nausea. All this and yet it was still Gareth Howard who made her go weak at the knees. Damn, blast and bugger.

Lady Macbeth had had a problem with her conscience too—all that hand-washing to get the old king's blood off her hands, thought Carol, as she painted on a smile, squared her shoulders and strode back into the pub. But then Lady Macbeth had got something real to feel guilty about and Carol hadn't, had she? She tried hard to let herself off the hook. Flirting and a bit of lusting never hurt anyone, said a robust voice at the back of her head, and that
was all it was. Just a fancying thing, a little bit of window-shopping, nothing serious, nothing life-changing, nothing important.

As Carol got to the bar Gareth—who appeared to be totally rapt by the conversation between Adie and Netty—moved aside without even apparently looking so that there was just enough room for her to stand alongside him. As she stepped into the space he moved fractionally closer and let his hand rest companionably on the small of her back, his fingers set so that they rested on the curve where her bum began to swell. It was done so casually that it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. His touch was like a lightning strike. Carol shivered while her body purred in anticipation. Move over Lady Macbeth.

‘Hello, Hedley?' Diana, standing out in the pub garden, pressed her finger to her ear. ‘How are you?'

‘Diana?' Hedley always sounded terribly surprised when she rang him, and very soon dispensed with the small talk. Yes, the children were fine; yes, he had fed the cat. Yes, he had found the meals in the freezer. They had had lasagne for supper. Hedley had a tendency to
shout because he seemed to think that mobiles were unreliable and still slightly revolutionary.

‘Can you hear me?' he bellowed. ‘I've got a bit of a problem here.'

Hedley was many things, but he had never had any problems coming straight to the point.

‘The instructions are on all the freezer bags and the cooking times are absolutely nonnegotiable,' Diana said firmly.

‘No, no, it's not about the meals, they're fine. I've had Dylan arrange them alphabetically so we know exactly what we're doing. No, I had a phone call earlier this evening which, to be perfectly honest, has left me in a little bit of a dilemma.'

Diana sighed. ‘Oh, Hedley. It's not that dreadful woman from the Mothers' Union again. You re ally must stand up to her; it's your church not hers. And no, she can't use the vestry for committee meetings. How many times do you have to tell her? The woman is a complete menace.'

‘No, it's not the Mothers' Union. It's about your weekend.'

‘My weekend? What do you mean, “my weekend”? I thought you said that you didn't mind, Hedley. We've talked about this.'

‘Of course I don't mind. No, it's about one of the people on it. Hang on, I've written it down here somewhere. Ah yes, here we are. Have you got someone there called Gareth Howard?'

Diana could imagine Hedley standing in their enormous rectory kitchen reading his spidery handwriting from the back of an old envelope. Diana smiled; she missed him when they were apart.

She glanced across the crowded room. Gareth was standing at the bar with Adie, Netty and Carol. From where she was standing she could see Gareth's hand was around Carol's waist, not that she seemed to mind. As Adie turned to order some more drinks Gareth leaned a little closer and whispered something into Carol's ear. She laughed and reddened, a hand covering her mouth.

‘Yes, actually we do. Why?' Diana asked.

‘Well, his wife rang here a little while ago.'

Diana felt an icy finger track down her spine. ‘What?'

‘His wife rang, she wanted to know if he was there.'

‘His wife, are you sure?'

‘Well, yes, that's who she said she was,
although obviously I've no documentary evidence one way or the other.' It was the kind of thing Hedley said. Diana let the words replay. Gareth's wife.

Inside at the bar Gareth Howard leaned forward and kissed Carol fleetingly on the neck. She swung round and glared at him but certainly didn't offer any resistance and the look on her face suggested any outrage was purely token.

Diana couldn't look away. Meanwhile Hedley said, ‘She asked me not to tell him that she had phoned but she sounded in the most dreadful state, Diana. Terribly upset. He has just walked out on them.'

A breath lodged in Diana's throat. ‘Them?' said Diana quietly.

‘Yes, she was awfully distressed. They've got two children, apparently. From what I can gather the little one can't be more than a few months old, and I think she said the elder one is about two. She was trying to track him down.'

Diana nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her; some things didn't need interruption.

‘I believe that she was rather hoping to talk
to him,' said Hedley. ‘Come down there—talk face to face, that sort of thing.'

‘Oh,' said Diana, wondering what the right thing to do was, and then wondering whether there
was
a right thing to do.

‘I've given her your number.'

‘Oh,' said Diana again, wondering what on earth she would have said or done if Gareth's wife had rung her before Hedley had had the chance to speak to her. Hedley always assumed she could cope.

‘Are you thinking?' asked Hedley.

Diana laughed. ‘Yes, Hedley. I am.'

‘I knew you would,' he said; she could hear the admiration in his voice.

‘Oh, Hedley.'

‘I rely on the fact that you'll know what to do. You always know.'

‘Um,' said Diana with a laugh. If only she had his confidence in her abilities.

‘Shall I leave it with you, then?'

Diana smiled. He hadn't re ally given her much choice. ‘Yes, Hedley. Give my love to the children. I'll call tomorrow. And—'

He laughed. ‘And I love you too,' he said, and then continued, ‘I told Gareth's wife about your plans for the weekend and I think she was
rather hoping to get down there to see him, but it does rather sound as if it would be an awfully long and difficult journey to Burbeck House with the children on public transport. Her name is Leonora—she sounded terribly sweet and very upset.'

Diana shook her head, like that re ally helped.

After she had rung off Diana wondered if what Gareth and his wife got up to was re ally any of their business. Perhaps she should just pass the message on to Gareth and let him deal with it. After all, they were his family. But Carol was her business. What the hell was she going to do?

Inside, the landlord was calling last orders. The drinkers, barely settled in after their walk down from the hall, moaned loudly although good-naturedly and pressed closer to the bar for one last round.

Diana tried to make her way back to Carol, Adie and the others. It was slow progress as lots of the troupe wanted to say hello, wanted to thank her and congratulate her on the reunion.

‘Diana,' said Adie as she finally made her way back to the bar, ‘what a star.' Diana blushed furiously as he handed her a drink and then, banging on a table, called for a toast.

‘Stop it,' she growled. ‘We've already done this once.'

‘Not in alcohol we haven't, and it doesn't count unless it's alcohol,' he said, and lifted his glass in salute.

Diana wished the floor would open up and swallow her but nevertheless the toast echoed round the pub, a roaring chorus of approval from everyone—drama group and locals included.

‘Right, that's enough now,' she said from behind a fixed grin.

Adie laughed. ‘Don't be so modest. So far it's been a roaring success.'

‘We've only been here since half-past three,' said Jan.

‘Well, it's a bloody good start,' countered Adie. ‘No fist fights have broken out, no one has stormed off in a huff and neither of the Drama teachers appear to have gone gaga in the interim. I'd say that we were ahead on points so far.'

Diana looked at Carol and Gareth, wondering how long their luck was likely to hold out.

While they got another round of drinks in, Gareth excused himself and headed to the toilet.
As he became submerged in the crowd Diana touched Carol's arm. ‘So how's it going then?'

Carol grinned. ‘OK. I know what Netty says but he seems nice. I just wish I didn't fancy him so much. I didn't expect to after all these years. It muddies the waters a bit—I keep wondering whether it re ally is him I fancy or the ghost of Christmas past? Let's face it, a lot of water has gone under the bridge since the last time we met. Silly, isn't it? I mean in real terms Gareth and I are complete strangers.' She reddened a little. ‘Sorry I'm talking too much. We've both had complete other lives, and yet there is this shared history—this little magic thing that it's very hard to get past. We'll see.' Carol smiled and downed her drink. ‘There is a nice little buzz between us. I'm just trying not to read anything into it. Maybe he's just being friendly.'

‘You let all your friends snuggle up like that, do you?'

Carol laughed. ‘I know what you're saying. But, trust me, it's not anything important. It's a bit like a holiday romance, something and nothing.'

Diana nodded. ‘I've been thinking about what Netty said,' Diana began, picking up her
fruit juice from the bar. She needed to go carefully.

Carol nodded. ‘But Gareth and I are only talking, Di—and as far as I know they haven't banned flirting yet. And I don't care what she says, he still is gorgeous. I can see what she means—he is a bad boy but I promise I'll be careful. Honest. Cross my heart.'

Carol might be preaching restraint but her eyes were sparkling and excited. Diana bit her lip; there was no easy way to say what was on her mind, and sometimes when that was the case the best way was just to say it.

‘Did you know that he's married?'

There was a split second, a little beat that hung in the air between them and then Carol nodded and said very deliberately, ‘Yes, he told me.'

Diana didn't say a word. After years of being a school teacher she knew that sometimes silence could be the most powerful prompt of all.

‘They're separated. He told me that she was unstable, quite difficult.' Carol shifted her weight from foot to foot. ‘I mean, he didn't say that she was mentally ill or anything but he did kind of infer it. It can't be easy for anyone—either of them—in that sort of situation.'

Diana nodded but still didn't comment.

Carol took a sip of her drink. ‘I do realise that I'm only hearing his side of the story and he is bound to paint himself in a good light.' Carol looked at Diana as if she was looking for approval, or at least some understanding. ‘But he did tell me.'

‘At least he was upfront about it,' said Diana softly, praying that Carol wouldn't ask how it was she knew and why she had brought it up now. But it looked as if Carol had other things on her mind.

‘Yes.'

‘He seems keen?' said Diana, looking towards the toilets.

Carol reddened. ‘There was a time when I used to think about Gareth all the time, for years. He'd bubble up in my head. When I look back it feels like we lost something good just when it was beginning, not like losing something that finished and had run its course. I remember he picked me up from work one day and was talking about going to university. He was re ally excited and I kind of knew then that that would be the end, he'd be meeting new people, doing good things—you know what I mean. I wasn't totally naïve, once he was gone
it would be so hard to hold it together,' Carol paused. ‘So on the way home I told him what I'd been thinking and he kissed me—he seemed relieved—and said he'd been thinking it too but didn't want to say anything because he re ally liked what we had and he didn't want to hurt me. God, I cried for days—it seemed such a waste.'

‘Excuse me, miss—I don't like to disturb you but can I have your autograph?' said a voice at Carol's shoulder. ‘You're that woman off the telly, aren't you?'

Carol and Diana turned and looked into the wide, open smiling face of a complete stranger, a small wiry man in a nylon raincoat and cap, who was clutching a sheet of paper and a pen.

Carol was about to say no when she realised he was actually looking at Fiona, who beamed and said, ‘Oh, of course, how very sweet,' and then, with a shrug of mock regret to Carol, Adie and the rest of the gang who were standing around her, added, ‘I'm so sorry, this happens to me all the time. Price of fame, I'm afraid.' And then giggling she turned her full attention on to the man.

‘A walk-on part in
Casualty
, that's fame these days, is it?' hissed Adie under his breath.

‘Sssh,' said Carol, totally enwrapped in Fiona and the fan moment.

Easing the sheet of paper and the pen out of the man's fingers, Fiona asked, ‘And who is it for?' Her tone was as sweet as boiled syrup.