Twisted Agendas (13 page)

“Do you want to go for coffee today?” he asked.

“Somewhere nearby.”

“And
Hund
friendly.”

“Is something the matter?” she asked, as they started along the street.

“Why do you ask?”

“You keep looking over your shoulder.”

“Habit. Sorry.”

They found a coffee shop two streets south of the
Institut
. As it had rained while they were in class, it was hot inside and a sour odour of damp woolen clothing hung in
the air. Over coffee at an unsteady table commanding a full view of the street, Danny talked about his family. He decided not to mention he’d had a fiancée. Finty explained she’d
taken German for a year as a schoolgirl, that she’d paid for the course at the
Institut
two years ago when her work had been steady and she was flush with cash, but had had to drop out
after the second week. Although she didn’t say why.

Taking out an unfiltered cigarette and lighter from her jeans, she patted the puppy’s head to calm him because he was growing restless. A silence arose. Danny grew uncomfortable when it
began to stretch. He hated these awkward moments in the company of others and always felt tongue-tied. He tried to think of something interesting to say.

“What sort of work did you do at the prison?”

“I was still a psychology student and had to do field work as part of my course.”

“So you counseled this Irish guy called Connolly?”

The waitress arrived with Danny’s ham sandwich. Finty stopped talking until she left.

“We became friends eventually,” she said. “I wasn’t supposed to. It’s considered unprofessional. But I liked Seamus. He had backbone. Took no shit from the prison
officers.” Her lips were full and he liked that she didn’t wear lipstick. She opened them to permit the smoke to curl lazily from her mouth. “Poor guy was in for
murder.”

She’d said the word ‘murder’ so casually. He’d never known anyone who’d killed another human being. Danny looked instantly about the café. No-one had
heard.

“He killed a cop.”

The crash of breaking crockery rushed from the kitchen. The café went quiet. People turned to look at the swing door leading to the kitchen.

“Whatever she broke’ll be deducted from her wages.”

“Is that what happens?”

She nodded at the window. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“You’ve checked outside at least six times and you look at the door every time somebody comes in.”

“I wasn’t aware.”

She took a long pull of her cigarette. “Seamus got me in a lot of trouble with the authorities.” The puppy began to whine. “Quiet, Rexie.” She looked about the
café. “He asked me to do things for him and I wasn’t experienced enough to realise I was being used.”

“What kind of things?”

“I smuggled in a penknife for him.” She didn’t speak for a moment and looked past Danny’s face, her gaze suddenly introspective. “He was dead artistic. Some of
these IRA men make fantastic Celtic crosses out of mahogany. He gave me one.” She took another drag and allowed the smoke to curl from her mouth. “I also smuggled letters out for him
and got caught when the prison authorities did a spot check on all personnel. Special Branch got involved. It was a bloody nightmare.” She shivered. “In the end, they realised I
hadn’t meant anything and let me go.”

The puppy mewled again. Opening the lid of his sandwich, Danny took out the thin slice of ham and looked about the café. “He might be hungry.”

A look of intense horror crossed her face. “Don’t! Rexie’s vegetarian.”

Traffic on the A3 had been light and she’d made excellent time. Sonia Berg’s advice to drink bitters before retiring to bed had been sound. Though she still had a
hangover, its effects were negligible, reduced to a slight headache that bothered her only when she flitted her eyes too quickly. Her spirits had improved throughout the drive too, partly on
account of the magnificent beauty of the Surrey countryside and partly because she’d managed to expunge the residue of guilt about leaving the house in such an untidy state for Danny. He was
a good sport about it, but still it wasn’t right. Julia resolved to change her ways. She just hadn’t had time the previous night. Sonia had stayed very late. Then Katie rang just as
she’d been about to start the washing up, to invite her down for the weekend because her husband Harry was going off to scout locations in the north of England for a production of
Wuthering Heights
. Before Julia realised it, they’d been chatting for over an hour.

She turned into a gravel driveway flanked on one side by a high hawthorn hedgerow and white paddock fencing on the other. Three sleek horses and Charlotte’s piebald pony stood within the
shade of the weathered barn. As she rounded the driveway’s only turn, she held her breath and strained to see if Harry’s Range Rover was parked in the yard. She didn’t expect to
see it but caution was always wise. With the car’s absence she could breathe normally again.

“Aunt Julia, you’re here,” Charlotte cried, as Julia entered the kitchen.

She was sitting at the table on top of which was a wicker picnic hamper. Her brother Rupert was seated directly across from her, the pair of them sipping homemade lemonade through fat straws the
colour of peppermint. Tresses of platinum blonde hair framed Charlotte’s cherubic face. Rupert didn’t greet her, just watched without blinking as he sipped.

Every time she first saw the children on these visits, Julia experienced an unsettling feeling, the feeling she was equally licensed and illegally on their property. She couldn’t shake it.
Katie told the children to call her ‘Aunt’ despite Julia’s mild protestations. Rupert never did. At eight, he was as sharp as Julia had been at his age, undoubtedly figuring out
there was no blood relationship and therefore no reason to indulge his mother’s ridiculous fantasy.

“Where’s your Mummy?” Julia said, as she set her overnight case by the door leading to the hallway.

“Upstairs,” said Rupert. He sucked the last of his lemonade.

“She’s searching for our pretty red and white tablecloth,” Charlotte added.

Julia nodded at Mrs. Ratcliffe, a local woman who came in daily to do light housework and mind the children. “I’m Julia, a friend of the family.”

“Pleased, I’m sure,” she said, though her face didn’t reflect it. She turned back to the sink and began to scrub the cooking pot with increased vigour.

Katie came into the kitchen carrying a folded tablecloth. “What great timing. I was about to take the children to the river.”

Wearing tight, cut-off denim shorts and a royal-blue top, her nipples jutting beneath the thin cotton, Julia had an urge to kiss her wide sensuous mouth. Every time she saw Katie, it constantly
astonished her that such a petite, fragile-boned woman could be so passionate and demanding in bed. Of course, it bothered Julia that Katie might be just as demanding, just as energetic, with her
husband, but she tried not to think about that.

“Sally, would you take my friend’s things up to her room, please?” Katie said.

While the woman had been in the family’s employ for years, Katie told Julia she knew nothing of her affairs with women because she was very discreet in her presence.

“Certainly, Mrs. Bennett.” She began to dry her hands on her apron.

The most direct route to the river skirted the old barn. When they reached it, Charlotte’s insisted on petting her pony. Julia and Katie set the basket down. While they
waited, Katie’s mobile rang.

“Annabel, marvelous to hear from you,” she said, and then walked away toward the barn’s main entrance door.

Her voice lowered. Charlotte called Julia to come and feed the pony with clumps of grass. She reluctantly obliged, immediately disliking the waxy feel of its facial hair on her fingers. Its
teeth were enormous. She whisked away her fingers every time the pony’s muzzle jerked upward. She strained to overhear Katie’s conversation but only heard fragments because of
Charlotte’s prattling.

The call ended and Katie rejoined Julia. “Charlotte, that’s enough. Come along, darling.”

Julia and Katie picked up the picnic hamper and began to walk towards a stile that led to a gently sloping meadow with a copse of oaks and thick undergrowth in its middle.

Unable to contain her curiosity while at the same time hating the urgent need to know, Julia asked who’d called and was told it was an old school friend.

“We were really close.”

Julia pondered. “Close, as in… ”

“Exactly.”

They climbed over the stile and walked into the meadow. The grass was interspersed with fragrant clover and daisies and felt springy underfoot. The sensation evoked a hazy memory of being in a
similar field with her father when he took Julia bird watching in the countryside as a girl. A sudden rush of elation at being among nature engulfed Julia and she pushed the petty jealousy out of
her mind.

As they drew near a copse of oaks, four Jersey cows sheltering from the hot afternoon sun walked out in single file from a clearing. Moments later, a massive rust-coloured bull emerged. Its hair
was beautifully curly. The beast stopped. His ears flicked back and forth. He stopped chewing and watched the party advance with what Julia was certain was an irritated air. She stopped abruptly,
causing Katie to lose her grip on the handle of the picnic hamper. It fell lopsided and a plate of sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and an assortment of oranges, pears and apples tumbled onto the
grass. The bull jerked his monstrous head up and down. The thick brass nose ring glinted in the sunlight. He snorted, the reverberation filling the distance between Julia and him, and then he
started to advance.

Julia let go of the hamper and began to walk briskly toward the stile, frequently peering over her shoulder as she made her way. The bull began to canter. Shrieking now, Julia started to run.
Katie and the children didn’t move.

“JULIA, STOP RUNNING,” Katie called. “Bruno’s friendly. He’s testing you.”

“Aunt Julia, don’t be scared,” Charlotte said.

She heard Rupert’s high-pitched laughter, looked over her shoulder again and saw Katie, still clutching Charlotte’s hand, shooing the bull away. It turned around and began to walk
back to rejoin the herd of bemused cows. Rupert sprinted toward her.

“It’s all right,” he said, and held out his hand for her to take. It felt clammy, just as a little boy’s hands would feel. “I’ll guard you. You’re safe
now.”

Katie burst out laughing as they walked up to her.

“How was I supposed to know he wasn’t dangerous?” Julia said. “It’s not
that
funny.”

“It’s very funny,” said Katie.

“I don’t understand animals like you country people do.”

“You run really well, doesn’t she, Rupert?”

He made an attempt not to giggle. The shock having passed, Julia was unable to quash her own smile. It blossomed into a chuckle and then outright laughter, which the others interpreted as an
open invitation to join her.

“It’s so beautiful here.” Julia lay beside Katie, her mind suspended between the alcohol buzz and lull of the trickling water.

Katie squeezed her arm gently.

Julia finished her Pimm’s, immersed her thumb and forefinger into the glass and fished out a slice of apple which she popped into her mouth. Stalks of tender grass pressed pleasurably
against the back of her neck. She set down her glass and began to lazily explore a dock leaf, sliding the pads of her fingers first along the glossy surface and then its rougher underside. Nearby,
a bumblebee moved about a clover flower collecting pollen. Further away, she could hear Charlotte calling to her brother as they played hide and seek within the ash thicket near the riverbank.

They stroked one another’s forearms for a while and then clasped hands and squeezed tightly. Charlotte finished a twenty count.

“It’d be hard for me to live here like you do, Katie. The quiet’s a pro and a con.”

“The children love it here… and so does Harry.” She took a deep breath. “As you’ve found out, he likes to play gentleman farmer.”

Julia lifted her head slightly, squinted and peered up at the sun. “I’m a city girl. Through and through.”

“I could live in town again, just not now. Maybe when the children go off to boarding school.”

She pondered her lover’s words. “Does Harry know you’re planning to pack them off to boarding school?”

“We make these decisions together.” Katie fell quiet for a moment, then squeezed Julia’s arm. “Did you bring the cuffs, darling?”

“Aha.”

“And the rope?”

“You are so bloody kinky.” Julia rolled on her side and propped herself up with an elbow. “Are all suburban housewives like this or is it just you?”

Katie giggled.

Leaning over, Julia kissed her fully on the mouth. The wide plump lips were velvet and yielding. She drew back and peered down at her lover whose hair was fanned about her head like a splayed
peacock tail. Katie raised her arm, cupped her hand around the back of Julia’s neck and pulled her down toward her again. They kissed more urgently.

Julia heard the gasp before comprehending what it was she’d actually heard. She sat up instantly. Rupert stood in the gap between an alley of brambles, his eyes enormous, right hand
clamped against his mouth. Instantly, Katie pushed her aside like an unwanted toy.

“Where… where’s your sister?” she asked.

“Mummy, why are you
kissing
her?”

“We weren’t kissing, darling.”

“You were.”

“Something bit me and Julia was sucking the sting out.”

“You were kissing like Daddy kisses you.”

Julia couldn’t help bristling.

“Where’s Charlotte?” Katie said.

“She’s looking for me.”

“Fetch her at once. We’re going home. I need to tend to my lip.”

He made no attempt to move, just stared at them sullenly.

“Do as I say, Rupert.
Now
.”

He turned and sprinted through the shrubbery. While they waited, they frantically discussed the options. Julia thought Katie needed to be honest, but also state it’d been for a lark. Katie
disagreed.