‘Therewerea lot of women,’ I say. He arches his brow at my tone and I can almost hear his claws unsheathe. The lion disturbed in his den.
‘A lot of women have problems. You’re not naive. You’ve been around, youknowthat.’
I hold his stare.
I have worked with people I have disliked before, when their reparation serves the common good. Companies that need to suddenly greenwash and pour millions into environmental projects to make up for their previous misdemeanours, celebrities who I have believed were truly apologetic. But I have also walked away from people who were clearly manipulating optics with no intention of changing any of their underlying behaviour.
Nick is the latter. The only thing this man serves are his own appetites. On the phone he said that he is repentant, that booze had played a part. He told me he was knocking the drinking on the head, that his family were supporting him. So far, he has prepped salads, marinated meat, drunk nearly a bottle of wine and blamed womankind.
I do not need to stay for lunch.
I start to phrase my polite withdrawals when Belle pops into my head. The amber of her eyes. This man is no more an island than any of us and she is part of his archipelago. When the waters rise to flood him, push him down beneath the waves, then she will go too. I do not want to lie awake at night picturing her as the waves wash over.
It is the most uncomfortable lunch I have ever been to. Belle shrinks in front of me, a hermit crab hiding out in someone else’s shell. Her parents are relentless in their put-downs. They do not allow her to finish a single sentence, not one.
To make it even worse, Rose is here and the sycophancy is off the scale. Any question of who is the favourite child is dispelled five seconds after she breezes in, with a huge bouquet of winter roses in one hand.
‘Rose is married to Jack Sharp, you know, in the cabinet and only twenty-seven. So clever, the both of them. She was approached by GCHQ in school and again at university. Such a sharp mind and she’s putting it to good use. The golden couple of politics. Perfect politician’s wife, aren’t you, darling?’ Nick’s pride in his youngest daughter spills over.
‘Madly dyslexic though, Rory. Would have sold my soul to Santa if it hadn’t been for Belle. Couldn’t have got through school without her help, it was painful.’ Rose smiles at me and I don’t trust it for a second.
‘You would have been fine. Belle barely bothered going to school so I don’t know why you think she helped you. She’s not the one rising high with a powerful husband.’
Both sisters cannot get away from the table fast enough.
Rose is practically in her car before the table has been cleared. I’m not going to be far behind. I’m just coming out of the loo when I pause, hearing Belle shout hello.
I push the door beside me open to see if she is looking for me. And realise it’s merely wishful thinking. Belle is sat with her back to me, her legs crossed on a large leather chair, her laptop angled towards her, cutting out the edge of the door frame where I stand. On the screen I can see a familiar face waving back at her. Is that Luisa Fischer? It is. I want to wave and shout hello myself.
‘How are you doing? Are they being hellish?’ The German accent is still there. I wonder if she went back to Berlin after university.
‘We had an extra for lunch so they reined it in a bit.’
Reined it in? That was them behaving? And I’m condensed to an extra. Belle Wilde, ever dismissive.
‘But listen, I need to cut to the chase, um, I hate having to ask this and I know I told myself I never ever would again but um, oh God … um…’ Belle brings her hand to her eyes, her middle fingers rubbing her brow, her elbow jutting at a right angle and I am shot with a memory of her doing the same during her dissertation stress.
‘Do you need some money for Christmas?’
‘Yes, no. Yes. I need some money. But it’s not for Christmas. This year, like everyone else, you’ll be getting a salt-dough snowman. I wish it was for Christmas. But I owe Chardonnay and I still haven’t paid her and…’ Her voice dries to a whisper and I find myself craning in. ‘I’m … um … work laid us all off. They were hoping to get us to Christmas but…’
I know I should leave, I should have left about three seconds after I had opened the door, but I am stuck there. My legs have taken root.
‘Oh shit, Belle. I’m sorry. On the upside at least, you were blameless this time.’
‘Really…’
‘Okay, tactless. But you have form.’
‘I do. I did. I’m a good girl now, a stupid one though. I told Rose about losing the job before lunch; that’s going to come back and bite me on the arse. But listen, I hate to ask … you know how much I hate to ask … but the nub of it is that I no longer have a job and Chardonnay reminded me I owe her for that time she lent me money to buy that costume.’
‘Yeah, I still don’t know why you didn’t come to me for that.’
‘Because I didn’t want to ask you again. You’ve always been so generous and I would have rather gouged my eyes out with a spoon than asked you. Irony, huh?’
‘Lear.’
‘I taught you so well.’
