B A Paris - Behind Closed Doors

‘Thankfully George Clooney has taken my place as Millie’s object of dislike,’ Jack laughs.

‘George Clooney?’ Esther queries.

‘Yes.’ I nod, glad that Jack has brought it up. ‘I had this thing about him …’

‘Don’t we all?’ murmurs Diane.

‘… and Millie was so jealous that when some friends gave me a George Clooney calendar for Christmas one year, she scrawled on it “I don’t like George Clooney”, except that she spelt it phonetically—J-O-R-J K-O-O-N-Y—she has a bit of trouble with the “L”,’ I explain. ‘It was so sweet.’

Everyone laughs.

‘And now she never stops telling everyone that she likes me but she doesn’t like him. It’s become a bit of a mantra—“I like you, Jack, but I don’t like George Cooney”.’ Jack smiles. ‘I must admit that I’m quite flattered at being mentioned in the same breath,’ he adds modestly.

Esther looks at him. ‘You know, you do look a bit like him.’

‘Except that Jack is much better looking.’ Adam grins. ‘You can’t believe how relieved we all were when he married Grace. At least it stopped the women in the office fantasising about him—and some of the men too,’ he adds laughingly.

Jack sighs good-naturedly. ‘That’s enough, Adam.’

‘You don’t work, do you?’ Esther says, turning back to me. I detect in her voice the thinly veiled scorn that working women reserve for those who don’t, and feel compelled to defend myself.

‘I used to, but I gave up my job just before Jack and I got married.’

‘Really?’ Esther frowns. ‘Why?’

‘She didn’t want to,’ Jack intervenes. ‘But she had a high-powered job and I didn’t want to come home exhausted and find that Grace was just as exhausted as I was. It was perhaps selfish of me to ask her to give up her job but I wanted to be able to come home and offload the stress of my day rather than be offloaded onto. She also travelled quite a lot and I didn’t want to come home to an empty house, as I already had done for many years.’

‘What was your job?’ Esther asks, fixing me with her pale-blue eyes.

‘I was a buyer for Harrods.’

The flicker in her eyes tells me she’s impressed. The fact that she doesn’t ask me to expand tells me that she’s not going to show it yet.

‘She used to travel all over the world first class,’ Diane says breathlessly.

‘Not all over the world,’ I correct. ‘Just to South America. I sourced their fruit, mainly from Chile and Argentina,’ I add, largely for Esther’s benefit.

Rufus looks at me admiringly. ‘That must have been interesting.’

‘It was.’ I nod. ‘I loved every minute of it.’

‘You must miss it, then.’ Another statement from Esther.

‘No, not really,’ I lie. ‘I have plenty here to keep me occupied.’

‘And soon you’ll have Millie to look after.’

‘Millie is very independent and anyway, she’ll be working most of the time at Meadow Gate.’

‘The garden centre?’

‘Yes. She loves plants and flowers so she’s very lucky to have been offered the perfect job.’

‘So what will you do all day long?’

‘Much the same as I do now—you know, cooking, cleaning, gardening—when the weather permits.’

‘You’ll have to come for Sunday lunch next time and see the garden,’ says Jack. ‘Grace has green fingers.’

‘Goodness,’ says Esther lightly. ‘So many talents. I’m so glad I was offered a post at St Polycarp’s. I was getting quite bored being at home all day.’

‘When do you start?’

‘Next month. I’m replacing a teacher on maternity leave.’

I turn to Rufus. ‘Jack tells me you have a huge garden,’ I prompt and, while I serve more of the beef Wellington, which, along with the vegetables, has been keeping warm on a hotplate, the conversation around the table revolves around landscaping rather than me. As everyone laughs and talks together, I find myself looking wistfully at the other women and wondering what it must be like to be Diane, or Esther, to not have someone like Millie to consider. I immediately feel guilty because I love Millie more than life itself and wouldn’t change her for the world. Just thinking about her gives me new resolve and I get purposefully to my feet.

‘Is everyone ready for dessert?’ I ask.

Jack and I clear the table and he follows me through to the kitchen, where I place the plates neatly in the sink to be rinsed off later while he tidies the carving knife away. The dessert I’ve made is a masterpiece—a perfect un-cracked meringue nest three inches high, filled with whipped Devon cream. I fetch the fruit I prepared earlier and place slices of mango, pineapple, papaya and kiwi carefully onto the cream and then add strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.

As I pick up a pomegranate, the feel of it in my hand transports me back to another time, another place, where the warmth of the sun on my face and the chatter of excited voices were things I took for granted. I close my eyes briefly, remembering the life I used to have.

Conscious of Jack waiting, his hand outstretched, I hand the fruit to him. He slices it in half and then I scoop out the seeds with a spoon and sprinkle them over the rest of the fruit. The dessert complete, I carry it through to the dining room, where the exclamations that greet its arrival confirm that Jack was right to choose it over the chestnut and chocolate gateau I would have preferred to make.

‘Would you believe that Grace has never done a cookery course?’ Diane says to Esther, picking up her spoon. ‘I’m in awe of such perfection, aren’t you? Although I’m never going to get into the bikini I bought,’ she adds, groaning and patting her stomach through her navy linen dress. ‘I shouldn’t really be eating this considering that we’ve just booked to go away this summer but it’s so delicious I can’t resist!’

‘Where are you going?’ Rufus asks.

‘Thailand,’ Adam tells him. ‘We were going to go to Vietnam but when we saw the photos of Jack and Grace’s latest holiday in Thailand, we decided to keep Vietnam for next year.’ He looks over at Diane and grins. ‘Once Diane had seen the hotel they stayed in, that was it.’

‘So are you going to the same hotel, then?’

‘No, it was fully booked. Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of being able to go on holiday out of term-time.’

‘Make the most of it while you can,’ Esther says, turning to me.

‘I intend to.’

‘Are you going back to Thailand this year?’ Adam asks.

‘Only if we can go before June, which isn’t likely with the Tomasin case coming up,’ says Jack. He looks meaningfully across the table at me. ‘After that, well, Millie will be with us.’

I hold my breath, hoping no one will suggest that if we wait, we’ll be able to take Millie along too.

‘Tomasin?’ Rufus raises his eyebrows. ‘I heard something about that. Is his wife one of your clients?’

‘Yes, she is.’

‘Dena Anderson,’ he muses. ‘That must be an interesting case.’

‘It is,’ Jack agrees. He turns to me. ‘Darling, if everyone’s finished, why don’t you show Esther the photos of our last holiday in Thailand?’

My heart sinks. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to see our holiday snaps,’ I say, keeping my voice purposefully light. But even that slight suggestion of discord between the two of us is enough for Esther.

‘I would love to see them!’ she exclaims.

Jack pushes his chair back and stands up. He takes the photo album from the drawer and hands it to Esther. ‘Then Grace and I will make coffee while you look at the photographs. Why don’t you go through to the sitting room—you’ll be more comfortable there.’