Persuading Annie (27 page)

Davina started coughing into her handkerchief, her eyes watering.

Charles was lost. He had absolutely no idea what to say. How come he always started off saying the right thing but ended up blubbering offensive crap? Why was it such a long and tortuous journey from his brain to his mouth? He looked desperately at his wife. She couldn’t meet his eye.

Annie didn’t know who to try and save first. She looked over at her father to see how he was reacting. He was checking his reflection in the silver knife.

‘Well,’ hissed Victoria finally to her husband. ‘I may be fat but at least I don’t have a face like a palsied chicken.’

Davina dropped her fork and dove under the table to retrieve it.

And with that, Victoria rushed out, leaving them all to a delightful, informal family dinner.

* * * * *

‘It’s not that I don’t love him,’ said Victoria through her tears. ‘I just … I just want to kill him.’

‘Yes,’ said Annie. ‘Sometimes it must get like that.’

‘No, not sometimes,’ said Victoria in a low voice. ‘All the time.’

‘Ah.’

‘Hatred is so exhausting, Annie. Resentment and hatred. Disillusionment, resentment and hatred. No wonder I’m tired all the time. He’s just so … so …’

‘… Enigmatic? Most men are.’

‘Enigmatic?’ scoffed Victoria. ‘The only thing enigmatic about Charles is his driving. He thinks indicators are for girls. No. He’s just insensitive to my—’

‘Demands?’

‘Needs.’

‘Oh.’

Annie looked out at the night rain. If only Victoria could learn to become responsible for her own happiness, instead of blaming poor Charles all the time. It could change everything. Annie was starting to see that if she had taken responsibility for Jake all those years ago, instead of handing it over to Susannah on a plate …

Maybe she could get Victoria to see that taking responsibility for her own life was a viable option. It would take sensitive handling, but it could be done.

‘What would make you happy?’ she asked eventually.

Victoria considered the question seriously.

‘A husband who did everything for me.’

Maybe not.

Annie wanted desperately to go to sleep, but she knew that Victoria needed cheering up. Charles had gone out after dinner and wasn’t back yet.

‘How about tomorrow we do a bit of shopping and treat ourselves to coffee in Greenwich Village?’ suggested Annie.

Victoria grimaced. ‘Why would I want to go to Greenwich Village?’ she asked.

‘All right, coffee at The Waldorf then.’

Victoria sniffed. ‘You go,’ she said. ‘I want to stay in tomorrow. Go to your precious Gluggenstein shop.’

* * * * *

Later that night, Annie found the apartment office: she was tired and it was dark but she managed to turn the computer on and log-on to the internet.

She wrote a quick note to Joy and then one to Marlon, asking how they both were, giving her address and, should they ever need it, her phone number. She clicked on send, turned off the computer and left the room.

20

ANNIE STOOD ON
the sidewalk, her teeth chattering with the cold, facing a winter splendour that was Central Park. She had been here a week now and had been stunned to discover that in the few years since she’d last visited, she had changed enough to like this city.

She’d walked to the heaving, bustling theatre district, where people spoke so loudly in the street that she kept thinking they were about to start hitting each other, then all the way back to the Upper East Side with its shiny brass fire hydrants and glossy dog walkers clutching their even glossier dogs.

For the first few days, she had felt horribly self-conscious, as if a neon sign shone from her forehead broadcasting the fact that she was a tourist. She felt convinced that everyone else shared a common understanding of the way of the world. They understood how the subway worked, how the grid system worked, how the language worked, how the money worked. And she was on the outside looking in.

But that feeling didn’t last long. Gradually things became clearer. And in fact they became even clearer than they had been at home. Nothing here was left to chance or was left
unsaid. Every public building stated boldly how many people it could hold, every street was one way and everyone spoke from the heart without embarrassment or shame. She began to wonder how she’d survived in London for so long, in dangerously overcrowded public buildings, filled with people who were so repressed they were all waiting to go home and grow their ulcers in peace and quiet.

The Christmas decorations were the same as at home and the Bing Crosby seasonal songs bursting forth from the shops into the streets reminded her of London. But everything else was larger, louder and faster here. It was as if someone had turned up the volume and fast-forwarded reality. She felt invigorated.

Tomorrow she was having the first catch-up meeting with Edward and her father, so she could update Susannah back home on how everything was going. It would be the first time she’d seen Edward since he’d visited her at home. He’d left a message on her answerphone explaining his visit to New York – ‘to check everything was going to plan in the Big Apple’ and his voice had been full of affection.

She was somehow feeling more optimistic about the outcome of her father’s company. She didn’t know why – it was as if the size and focus of New York had simply sharpened her positive emotions. Life seemed to be happening to her again.

She pulled her coat and scarf tight around her body and strode to Central Park where she watched the roller-bladers, cyclists, scooters, joggers and walkers speed over and under the manmade bridges, personal stereos and mobile phone attachments glued to their ears. No wonder Americans find England quaint, she thought. She felt positively anachronistic sitting there with her unhampered feet and ears. She might as well have worn a corset.

Just then her new mobile phone went off and because she was a tourist, she didn’t feel any sense of embarrassment whatsoever. That was, until she took off her mittens and started to use the thing.

‘Annie, you’ll never guess!’

‘Hello?’

‘The second wedding, you’ll never guess who it is!’

‘Who is this?’

‘Annie? Is that you?’

‘Yes, who is this?’

‘It’s VICTORIA, for Christ’s sake. Annie, it’s not
Jake
and Sophie – it’s David and Sophie! Can you believe it?’

‘What’s David and Sophie?’ asked Annie, too cautious to believe her ears.

‘The second wedding – Sophie’s engaged to that short, divorced management consultant! Can you believe it?’

No, she couldn’t.

‘I said, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? Jesus, you know how to spoil good gossip, don’t you?’

‘No, I can’t,’ laughed Annie. ‘I can’t believe it.’

Annie screamed into the phone with delight. Well, she didn’t want to spoil Victoria’s good gossip.

‘I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!’ she yelled, laughing.

‘I
know
!’ Victoria started giggling.

‘He’s so
short
!’ squealed Annie.

Victoria had instant hysterics.

Annie had forgotten how easy it was to make Vicky laugh.

‘He’s a management consultant! She’ll never be able to move in polite society again.’

Vicky choked.

‘He’s not Jake!’

They whooped with laughter.

‘He’s the Other One!’

‘Sophie’s choice!’ roared Vicky down the phone. ‘Did we need any more proof that the girl has the IQ of a rabbit?’

Annie exploded on cue into hysterics. No one in the park even looked at her. God, she loved America.

‘He’s now my brother-in-law.’ Victoria was suddenly serious. ‘Fuck.’

‘I’ll be home in a mo,’ said Annie quickly. ‘You sound like you need cheering up. Thanks for the good gossip, sis.’

The sun broke through some cloud and Annie was suddenly bathed in winter warmth. Jake wasn’t going to marry Sophie! This amazing fact warmed her right through and she started running home. Then suddenly it occurred to her that Jake was still as estranged from her as ever and, worse still, might now be heartbroken.

She stopped running suddenly. And the sun hid again behind a cloud the size of Manhattan Island.

* * * * *

When she arrived home, she found Victoria on the phone to Fi. Charles was out. It was indeed going to be a double wedding in the New Year. Probably Easter. Fi was delighted – she thought David was wonderful. Tony already adored him.

As soon as Victoria got off the phone, she started talking nineteen to the dozen. Annie managed to glean how the David and Sophie story had happened.

During the very early stages of Sophie’s recovery, while Jake was out at work all the time and David was always around in the evenings, Sophie had realised with exquisite horror that she was with The Wrong Man.

The poor young girl had said nothing, hoping against hope that the problem would somehow solve itself. And it did,
spectacularly. Jake’s hours were so long that she fell out of love with the Company Boss. And then fell in love with David.

The End.

‘And they’re both determined to marry immediately!’ finished Victoria.

‘And how do you feel about it now?’ asked Annie.

‘Better,’ said Victoria firmly. ‘There’s something stubborn about Jake that I didn’t notice at first. Not nice to have that in the family. God knows where it might end. Oh no. She made the right decision after all. Good girl.’

Annie grinned openly at the way her sister’s sheer selfishness had helped her find life’s silver lining.

But how was Jake feeling? She had to know.

‘Shall we do Madison Avenue?’ Victoria asked excitedly. ‘I’ve got to get an outfit for the weddings. Katie and Davina are there already – we could meet them for coffee – I could give Katie a ring on her mobile—’ she was already at the phone.

E-mail. Annie could e-mail David. Congratulate him. Ask how they all are. Hint at Jake.

‘You go ahead,’ she instructed Victoria. ‘I’ve just got to do something.’

She went to her bag and found David’s card. His e-mail address was at the bottom. She went straight to the office. She gasped. The view over the park was spectacular. The tops of the trees made a russet and yellow carpet, undulating towards the splendour of Upper West Street. The silence was almost moving. Next to the window was a small, unobtrusive intercom speaker interconnecting all the rooms – there was also one in the hall, the drawing room, the kitchen and her father’s bedroom. They used to have an intercom system in their London home, but they had got rid of it a few years ago when her father had had the place redecorated. They had all
preferred life without it. After all, what was the point of being able to afford a place big enough to lose each other in, if you couldn’t lose each other in it?

She tapped in David’s address and started typing a message. After much deleting and swearing, she read the final version. It was chatty, informal and polite. Interested without being inquisitive. Chirpy without being ecstatic. She re-read it once more and clicked on the Send icon.

Then she spotted that she’d had two messages. One from Marlon and one from Joy. For some reason, she clicked on Marlon’s first.

Darling one!

What a nice surprise! How nice of you to think of me! How’s New York?

I’m having a nervous breakdown. Everything’s meaningless without the woman of my dreams.

How are you?

Marlon

Oh dear. Annie replied immediately. It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. How can you listen sympathetically on e-mail?

She typed in that time helped.

Well, that was one of life’s biggest lies. Time didn’t help – it just made you older.

She deleted.

She typed in that she loved him and would always be there for him.

That was more about easing her guilt about leaving the country during his biggest crisis than helping him through this bad patch. And she wasn’t coming back, so it was hardly true.

She deleted.

She typed in that Joy would always be there for him.

But she knew that Joy had feelings for Marlon that he couldn’t return. She didn’t want to put either of them in a painful position.

She deleted.

With a big sigh, she started her fourth version.

Marlon

New York is great. My family is mad.

I love you.

Annie

Now for Joy’s message. She clicked it open.

OK, when he flirted with me it was an insult. One long bloody insult. An insult to my self-respect, to my intellect and to my clothes sense. Not to mention to his wife.

Now he’s stopped and I want to kill him.

It’s like he’s gone into himself. I can’t get through any more. And do I really want to? Can you imagine how painful it is trying to help the man you love get over another woman? No of course you can’t, you pretty young thing.

How’s New York? How’s your family?

Write soon

Love

Joy xxxx

Annie started to type in that time helped.

She deleted.

She typed in that she loved her and would always be there to help.

She deleted.

She typed in that maybe there was something more to Marlon’s flirting – maybe, who knew? – Marlon had latent feelings for her? …

She deleted.

She typed in that what gave Joy the right to think she had a fucking autonomy over feelings? Yes, she
did
know how painful it was to help a man get over another woman, since she asked …