Virtually Perfect (39 page)

'You know Eve has an older sister, Amy.'

Ben turned to Roger, puzzled, wondering where this was leading.

'I remember when Eve found out that we’d taken Amy to Gibraltar on holiday. She threw an absolute fit! ...Normally when a child has a tantrum, it lasts for a few minutes then they forget about it.  Move onto something else...  Not our Evelyn!' Roger chuckled.  'This went on for days!  Shouting, screaming, refusing to eat. We had to take her there in the end.  We tried to explain that the only reason we didn’t take Evelyn was because she hadn’t been born yet.  She wasn’t having any of it!'

Ben smiled.

'How old was she?' he asked coyly.  '22?'

Roger grinned back.

'That’s right!' he played along. 'How did you guess?'

Roger blew a plume of smoke up to the ether.

'You’d do as well to stay off the topic of ex girlfriends,' he warned Ben politely. 'Particularly ex fiancées. Evelyn is prone to a touch of the green-eyed monster. She takes after her mother... Hearing about how you once put a ring on a girl’s finger while she’s never had one - I can see how that might smart.'

Ben took another puff, staring through the railings across the way, his gaze following the row of amber streetlamps in the distance. Was that it?  Was  she winding herself up about Lydia because of something that bridesmaid had said?

'Where did Alex get to?' Ben asked feigning innocence, anxious for a cue to go back inside.

'Probably chasing some waiter,' Roger responded glibly.

He gave Ben a look and smiled.

'Rest assured Benjamin, I know very well what she’s like. I’m sorry she embarrassed you at the table.  I doubt her fawning all over you like that did very much to improve the situation with Eve.'

Eve teetered on one foot precariously, wrenching off her shoe.  She plunged her bare foot down, yanking off the other, wriggling her toes in delight as her feet sank into the cool, dew drenched grass.

She hated those shoes.  She always had.  Oh, they did look deceptively pretty, but they always pinched and rubbed.  Eve surveyed the damage.  Last night's blisters had been superseded by new ones.  One on the ball of her foot was as big as a £2 coin.  She needed to pop them.  She needed to get home.

The satin lining of Eve's coat stuck to her back, still hot and clammy from the samba.  The lawn felt springy underfoot as she wandered down it.  It had rained a lot those past few weeks.  She ferreted in her bag amongst the stockings and suspenders, pulling out her phone, frowning at it.  No missed calls.  She tutted.  What was Amy playing at?  She said she'd ring her back in five minutes.  Why was it taking so long? 

Eve winced as her feet made contact with the tarmac path.  She crossed it gingerly, up on tiptoe, her tongue lolling from the side of her mouth in concentration.  She hit grass again.  Eve smiled.  She did feel a little bit tipsy.  She slid a cigarette from the packet, slipping it between her lips.  She raised her lighter and froze.

She sniffed the air.  Eve could smell cigar smoke.  She could hear men's voices.  They were coming from the other side of the shrubbery.  Eve ducked down a little, creeping closer to the rhododendrons.  She peered through the waxy leaves, saw two embers, glowing in the darkness.  Two silhouettes - broad backs towards her.  They were sitting on her bench.

'I know what everyone thinks...' 

Eve's eyes widened. 

'I'm just a silly old man being taken for a ride.' 

The cigarette tumbled from her mouth.

'Amy is very diplomatic, but I can read her like a book...  Evelyn's more vociferous, of course.' 

She heard her father chuckle. 

'She's made her thoughts abundantly clear...

'I don't know,' Roger sighed.  'It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I'm not so sure.  It's all so superficial.  So empty...' 

He fixed Ben's inquisitive stare. 

'I don't love Alex.  How can you love someone you can't even trust?'

Eve peeked through the bushes.  She could see the side of Ben's face in the dim amber light.  She watched him ruffle his hair. 

He was uncomfortable.  He always did that when he felt awkward.

'I'm not stupid,' Roger went on.  'I know she doesn't love me.  It's more like a business arrangement.'

Eve grimaced. 

'There's a pre-nup, of course.  She'll never get her hands on the house,'  Roger sighed.  'I get companionship, an attractive woman on my arm, and she gets some security.' 

Eve felt a little bit sick.

'I don't know why everyone is so snooty about it,' she heard her father say.  'Not everyone marries for love.'

Ben remembered Aziz telling him how things were when he got married.  He'd met her just once before the engagement party, for a whole five minutes, and at that it was just her eyes peering from a slit in the black niqab.  His mother had vetted her.  Women were allowed to unveil in front of each other - they wore quite racy clothes beneath those abayas, by all accounts.  She'd told Aziz that she was pretty and nice.  That was apparently good enough for him.  So he took out a bank loan to secure her hand, repayable over a six year term.  That was his side of the bargain.  Stumping up the cash.  Her side was being pretty and nice.  Kind of like Victorian Britain.  Kind of like Britain today, in some circles.

'So more of a marriage of convenience?' said Ben.

'Exactly,' Roger nodded.

'I almost had one of those myself...  Well, I suppose it was more the inconvenience of getting out of it that was the problem, until she gave me the perfect excuse.'

Roger studied him.

'I always thought you and Lydia were happy.'

Eve glowered through the bushes at them. 

'Looks can be deceptive,' said Ben.  'Can I be honest with you...?'

'Go on...' Roger coaxed.  Eve edged a little closer.

'I don't like Alex,' Ben told him.  'I think you could do a lot better.'

Eve smiled to herself, suitably impressed.

They turned their heads in unison, disturbed by the sound of breaking twigs, two loud thuds in the thicket.  Eve dropped to her knees, wincing.  She'd pricked her blister on a twig.  The shoes had slipped from her fingers.

'Probably a bird,' said Roger.  'Or a fox.' 

Ben shrugged back at him. 

Eve craned her neck to see them again, peering through the scrub.  She saw Ben take a puff from the cigar.

He must stink... 

Eve hated the smell of them.

'Marriage of convenience...' mused Ben.  'I don't think there could be a greater contradiction in terms.  What's less convenient than being married to someone you don't love?'

'Being married to someone you
do
love,' said Roger wistfully.  'Watching her drink herself to death.'

Eve felt an icy knot in her stomach.  She watched Ben rub his head again.

'I'm sorry, I had no idea,' he said, his eyes flicking to Roger's briefly, then back to the tip of his cigar.  There was loads left.  They'd be ages yet.  He wasn't comfortable with this conversation at all.

'I was a terrible father.  A terrible husband,' Roger said ruefully.  'I let everybody down.'

'I'm sure that isn't true,' said Ben.  He knew it was a prompt for more revelations, more secrets he didn't want to be privy to, but what else could he say?  'You were busy, that's all.'

Eve watched her father turn to Ben, saw the stony look in his eye, the crook of his brow, the straightness of his lips.

'I was busy because I made myself busy.  I couldn't deal with it, so I just hid at work...  Which only made matters worse.  Poor Eve, no wonder she hates me.'

'She doesn't hate you,' said Ben buoyantly.  'She was only saying the other day that she wanted to call.  She was just too stubborn...  Maybe she takes after her dad?' 

Roger smiled.  Eve was smiling faintly too.

'I tried to ring her at the flat all week,' said Roger.  'I couldn't get an answer.  I assumed she must have caller ID...  I almost didn't come, actually.'

Eve frowned.  She hadn't heard the phone go once.  She watched Ben, still messing around with his hair.

'I think she's been having trouble with the landline,' she heard him say.  Her lips parted.  Her frown grew deeper. 

Ben pulled his phone from his pocket. 

'Have you still got the same number?' he asked.  Roger nodded.  'I'll text her mobile to you.'

She heard the ching of it arriving, saw Ben extinguish the white glowing screen.

'We should probably go back inside,' he said.  'They'll be sending out a search party soon.'

'How is she financially?' asked Roger.  'Marcus can't be paying her much.'

Ben turned to him. 

'She's very independent,' he said, taking a puff of the cigar.  'On our first date, she insisted on paying for dinner.  I wouldn't let her, of course.'

'A string of no good, layabout users,' Roger grumbled.  'She won't be accustomed to that.'

Eve looked down into the blackness.  He was right.

'When we went to London, I took her to
The Groucho
,' Ben said, smiling coyly.  'Showing off, buying expensive Champagne.  She didn't say a word.  Then when we bumped into Felicity Doodah...'

'Triggs-Bowen,' nodded Roger. 

'That's the one.'

'Yes.  She did mention it.'

Probably at 9.05am the following Monday. 
Eve rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

'I must have looked such a berk!' Ben cringed.  'I even pointed out Faber & Faber!'

Eve heard her dad chuckle.  She smiled to herself. 

'She was going to call you,' Ben said.

'...Did she take you to the British Museum?' enquired Roger.

'Yes.'

'Did she drag you up to the Asia section, to a little gold statue?'

Eve closed her eyes.

'Yes,' Ben said again.  '...How did you know that?'

'That's Tara,'  Roger told him. 

Oh shut up, Dad!  For heaven's sake!

'When they were little, Nadia told them she was magic.  That she could make all their wishes come true.  Needless to say, we've been there a few times...'

He smiled at Ben.  Ben smiled back at him.

'So, you think she has enough to get by on?  Does she seem happy, to you?'

'I think she manages,' Ben told him.  'I can't imagine her accepting any help anyway, but...  I don't know.  She doesn't have a car anymore, she couldn't afford to run that.  I think she struggles to pay the rent.  To be honest, I think the whole block probably ought to be condemned...  Don't tell her I said any of this, obviously...'

'Obviously.'

Obviously...

'...I think the cat probably eats better than she does.'

Eve stared up at them, cheeks blazing.

'That idea backfired then,' said Roger, puffing his cigar.  'Or maybe it worked a little too well.

'You know, after Nadia died, there were a good few months where Eve wouldn't get out of bed.  She'd never been like that before.  Always so hardworking, but she suddenly just stopped.  She'd lie there all day, hiding in her cocoon, while her career went down the pan.  It must have been grief, but there were no tears.  I haven't seen Eve cry since she was very small.

'She had no enthusiasm.  She just couldn't function.  I don't think for a second she wanted to stay living with me, she just couldn't muster the strength to move back to Clapham.  It was like someone had removed the batteries.  It's... it's difficult to explain...  You'd look at her, and her face was just blank.  Nothing in her eyes, nothing at all.

'Sometimes we get so low we that we stop caring about ourselves,' Roger acknowledged.  'So I gave her something she couldn't ignore.  Something completely reliant on her...  And gradually, she did come around...  I can't tell you how happy I was the day I came home and found her playing with Beau in the garden,' he said, smiling proudly.  'Of course, when she saw me, she went back to her room in a huff...  She resented me from the day I brought that cat home.  With every day, a little bit more... 

'Nobody wants their daughter to hate them, but at least she did it with gusto!  I could live with that.  Up until then she was terrifyingly blank.  When she decided to go off travelling, even though I knew it was professional suicide, even if it was just to get away from me, I was pleased for her.  I knew it was what she needed to do.'

'I remember,' Ben said quietly.  'I remember the postcards in your office.'

His pinboard was plastered with them.

'She would have been fine if she'd just kept going.  If she hadn't got snared up with
him
.'

Ben's gaze flicked to Roger.

'Dan?'

They exchanged a look.

'Dan,' grizzled her father.

'I suppose I should have expected a rebellion from one of them at some point.  They both sailed through their teenage years without so much as a murmur...  You just don't expect it from a thirty year old woman.