Jamie Holland - An Almost Perfect Moon

For Pip

The indefatigable pursuit of an unattainable Perfection, even though it consist in nothing more than in the pounding of an old piano, is what alone gives meaning to our life on this unavailing star.

Logan Pearsall Smith, Afterthoughts

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Epigraph

part one – spring

1. Sunday and raining

2. Harry faces a conundrum

3. Flin receives a shock

part two – summer

4. the first whole day of Thomas Armstrong

5. Gloucester sojourn

6. paternity leave

7. Flin’s quest to become a modern day Pop Larkin takes a step in the right direction

8. fate throws a cat among the Pigeons

9. Ben begins to feel frustrated (in more ways than one)

10. rural realities

11. harry sees Jenny again but feels tantalised

12. client dinner

13. cold comfort

14. a breath of French air

part three – autumn

15. Ben confused

16. town and country

17. Harry in Arcadia

part four – winter

18. Ben

19. Flin

20. Harry

epilogue christening

Acknowledgements

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Outside, the rain continued, putting paid to the planned walk on Wandsworth Common. Lucie had delivered the kind of high-class lunch her husband and close friends had come to expect. All the same, at seven-and-a-half months pregnant, she had warned all of them this was going to be the last she would be cooking at her and Ben’s house for quite some time. In the short-term future, if anyone was expecting to be fed on a Sunday, Ben would have to be the cook. Her husband had shrugged and the others had agreed that in that case, they should definitely make the most of the spread before them.

Now, having eaten and drunk too much, the small party slumped in front of the television, the fire gently flickering in its even, gas-infused way. They were watching Rebecca.

‘Oh my God, it’s burning,’ Tiffany exclaimed as Maxim de Winter hurtled down the drive towards Manderley. Flin was half reading the paper, and Harry seemed mildly distracted, but the other three were content to watch the final events of the film unfolding on the screen.

Ben was the first to pass judgement, as the final image – a single ‘R’ surrounded by flames – melted from the screen.

‘I’m sorry, darling, but that was bollocks.’ He stretched his arms above him and yawned.

‘It’s a great film,’ sighed Lucie. ‘Don’t be such a bloody heathen. Didn’t have enough guns for you, I suppose.’ She slapped him lightly on his shoulder and dug one of her legs into him. Since cooking the lunch, she’d refused to lift another finger; it was her prerogative to sit down and gently soothe her swollen, semi-spherical belly.

‘Well, I thought it was great. Really romantic,’ put in Tiffany.

‘Although I have to admit,’ added Lucie, ‘their’s was a totally unconvincing relationship. Never would have worked. There’s too much stacked against them. He’s dominating and dismissive and she’s wet. Not to mention the manslaughter bit. Because that’s what it was, even if she was dying and he was driven to it. It’s so sordid.’

Ben leant over and kissed her very delicately on the cheek. ‘Then we’re obviously doomed, darling: you’re dominating and I’m meek.’

‘Oh, be quiet,’ retorted Lucie, prodding him in the ribs.

‘See? I rest my case,’ he grinned.

But Tiffany, who hadn’t yet married Flin, picked up on something else. ‘So what do you think makes a good marriage then? You guys always seem so great together. What’s the secret?’

‘An adoring husband,’ said Ben.

Ignoring him, and deciding to take the question seriously, Lucie replied, ‘I don’t know really – I suppose you’ve got to be best of pals. Shared interests. You’ve got to like each other’s friends. That’s important.’ She looked thoughtfully in the direction of the bookcase. ‘Fancy each other, of course.’

‘No problem there,’ said Ben, ‘I’ve always fancied the pants off Luce.’

Finally giving her husband a hint of a smirk, Lucie added, ‘You’ve just got to know you’re right together. Deep down. But you guys might as well be married. You live together just like we do. What’s the secret for you? Much the same I expect.’

‘I don’t know, honey, what’s the secret?’ asked Tiffany, craning round to look at Flin.

‘What you have to realize,’ said Flin, half-heartedly covering Tiffany’s ears, ‘is that as well as being a gorgeous Aussie babe, Tiff is one of the most laid-back, easy-going people I know.’

‘And I like pubs a lot,’ added Tiffany, ‘which is important to you, isn’t it, honey?’

‘And you like pubs.’

‘And beer,’ said Lucie, ‘which considering you’re so tiny, I’ve always found extraordinary.’

Tiffany shrugged, then laughed. Flin looked at her, blonde hair dishevelled, and outsized woollen jumper stretched over knees tucked under her chin. He probably loved her more now than ever. He was a lucky man.

Ben decided to provoke Lucie. ‘Still,’ he began, grinning conspiratorially at Flin, ‘I think you might be wrong about Laurence Olivier and Joan Fontaine. I reckon they’d have worked out. After all she’s marrying pots of cash and he’s got a young wife to have great sex with. Anyway, I want to know what the film expert thinks,’ said Ben. ‘Come on, Flin.’

‘Oh, I’m with you all the way,’ agreed Flin. ‘Great sex and loads of money can overcome all sorts of other problems, I’m sure.’

‘I know what you’re doing, you two, and it isn’t going to work.’ Lucie folded her arms adamantly.

Tiffany laughed, ‘If only you were rich, Flin.’

‘If only I were,’ said Flin, stretching, ‘but I’m not sure I really see the point of getting married. And if Tiff ever does insist on it, I think we should go and do it on a beach in Barbados or something. I’ve seen so many people get hitched and everyone, without exception, seems to become totally over-stressed and argumentative over it. Seems a lot more hassle than it’s worth.’

‘That’s why it’s good for any long-lasting relationship,’ said Lucie. ‘It’s a test. If you still want to be married after an engagement full of wedding organization and arguments with future in-laws, you know you’re definitely made for each other.’

‘Fair comment,’ admitted Flin.

‘I quite like the sound of Barbados,’ said Tiffany, turning round to see Flin’s reaction.

‘OK, let’s go next week,’ he grinned. ‘Can everyone here make it?’

‘Great. I’m up for it,’ said Ben, holding up his hand, classroom-style. But Luice hadn’t finished on the important matter of the de Winters’ future.

‘I still think Laurence and Joan wouldn’t work. It would develop into a miserable loveless marriage. Really, they’re two completely different people – different ages, different classes, which was important then, and for most of the film he treats her more like a daughter. He was certainly old enough to be her dad. And he never once called her by her name. By the end of the film you still don’t know what her bloody name is! I mean, what kind of a marriage is that?’