Lynda Plante - The Talisman

They drove to Skye’s in silence. She was biting her nails, looking at him, needing him to be kind, but he purposely remained silent. It was not until he parked the car outside Skye’s bungalow that he made a conscious effort to be nice to her. ‘You look lovely... and don’t worry, we’ll work it out, okay?’ She nodded her head, then flung herself into his arms. ‘I love you, I do love you.’

‘I know, I know... and by the way, don’t take one of his joints, they’re lethal.’

Skye did not get the slightest hint that all was not well, far from it. Edward bounded in, hand in hand with Harriet. The champagne corks popped, and this time Mrs Barkley drank. They also had more champagne at dinner. Harriet and Skye began to interact fast, she picked up his camp humour and then had not only Skye weeping with laughter, but Edward too. She repeated the story about discovering Dewint dressed as Joan Crawford, but she made Edward promise never to mention that she had told him. His mood eased, and he started to enjoy himself for real. He could see the way Skye was being captivated by her and he liked it.

She had ordered snails, and then held up one of the shells, and with a serious face looked at Skye. ‘Did you know that the shell is the most delicious part of the escargot? You really must try it...’

Skye bit into the shell and almost lost his front tooth before he realized she was joking.

Edward didn’t find it quite as hysterically funny as they both did, but concentrated on ordering a good wine to go with their main course. They had all ordered different dishes.

When the meal was served, Harriet was very disgruntled by what she called ‘her shrivelled chicken’. Skye, getting well drunk, admired with relish his Dover sole. He made a great show of offering his plate to her, then withdrawing it, saying she could only have it if she gave him a forfeit. Edward sliced into his steak, warning Harriet against the ‘deal’, and Skye splashed more red wine into his already full glass... ‘Don’t be so bloody boring, come on, Harry, yes or no? Yes? Okay...’

Skye thought about it, and then pointed to the pianist sitting playing a very soft rendering of show tunes. ‘Okay, Mrs Barkley, I want you to go across the room, and ask him to play something... and you have to sing, in front of everyone... if you do, you’ll get my Dover, if you don’t, you are stuck with that very sickly chicken.’

Edward wiped his mouth with his napkin and suggested she simply call the waiter and order something else. ‘No, that’s not the point, it’s not the point, is it, Skye?’ Edward was slightly embarrassed, they were already louder than any of the other diners. Skye was obviously encouraging her, and at the same time giving sly little nudges to Edward. Harriet was having a ball, she banged the table. ‘I’ll do it on the condition you do one as well.’

Edward had almost finished his steak, he put his knife down. ‘This is getting stupid, just order something else, or I’ll order it for you.’

She clapped her hands not listening to him. ‘You, Mister Duval, have to go across to that table and act as a waiter.’

Skye turned to the group of people already raising their eyebrows and giving disapproving stares.

Edward threw down his napkin. ‘That’s enough Harry, just call the waiter and stop this.’

‘But I am the waiter, dear heart, I am.’ Skye was lisping, and being overtly camp.

Before Edward could stop her, Harriet was at the piano. The pianist, who had very rarely had a request and could play his medley of show tunes with his eyes closed, became quite animated. There was no microphone, and Harriet sat next to him on the piano stool. He flipped through his books and she helped him to find the music.

Edward finished his steak. Skye leaned close to him. ‘She’s wonderful, just wonderful, I adore her... how in the hell did you find her. My God, she’s going to do it...’ Skye drew the entire restaurant’s attention as he applauded loudly. He knew Edward was getting more uptight, and he revelled in it, pouring even more wine. ‘Ease up, Eddie, I reckon she knows what she’s doing.’

‘Do you, she’s never sung before in her life, and when I want more wine, I’ll bloody ask for it.’

Harriet began singing, softly at first. ‘Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own...’

Skye never took his eyes from her, and slowly Edward, too, turned towards the piano. There she was, eyes closed, swaying against the pianist and her voice was as sweet as a bird’s. He felt a helplessness sweep over him, she captivated him as she did the entire room. He applauded along with everyone else.

Skye was up and removing a tray from a passing waiter. He slipped his napkin over his arm and tangoed between the tables. Even the elderly foursome managed a half-smile of amusement as he insisted on serving them, and cleaning their breadcrumbs from the table.

He then ordered a very good bottle of port as a peace offering. With the tray held aloft he turned to Harriet who was still standing by the piano. He fell to his knees. ‘I love you, I am in love with you.’ He led her proudly back to their table, bowing low and kissing her hand. ‘Mrs Barkley, you are exquisite... I don’t suppose you have a sister do you?’

Edward lit up a cigar, his voice was quiet, nasty. ‘She doesn’t have a sister, Skye, but I think you might prefer her brother. He’s an iron hoof too.’

Harriet saw Skye flinch, the slight flush in his face and she frowned at Edward. She then cupped her hand to Skye’s ear and whispered. ‘Pa calls him a shirt-lifter, isn’t that funny?’

He bent down and gave her a swift kiss on her lips, catching her completely by surprise. His eyes were serious, painful... ‘You don’t believe me, do you? But I meant what I said... I am in love with you.’

Edward pushed his chair back, clicking his fingers for the waiter. The cigar clenched in his teeth. ‘Oh she likes compliments, she likes to tease, but doesn’t come up with the goods.’ He gripped her arm. ‘Let’s go.’

Just as she had seen the hurt in Skye, Skye saw Edward’s remark hit home, but he didn’t bargain for her reaction. She jerked her arm free. ‘Want to see my next trick, Mr Barkley... LADIES AND GENTLEMEN I SHALL REMOVE THIS TABLECLOTH, LEAVING ALL THE CROCKERY ON THE TABLE... AHHH ONE, AHHH TWO...’ Edward walked out as the crockery smashed to the floor. The bottles of wine, the glasses...

He sat in cold fury in the car waiting. They came out arm in arm, and the manager bowing and scraping. It reminded Edward of Cambridge, of Charlie, and his fury grew. She was one of them, the bread-throwing English upper classes. As they reached the car, Edward got out and pulled her round to the passenger seat. He pushed her roughly inside.

‘Oh my God, there is no need to be so butch, dear, I can get in all by myself.’

Skye had his hand on the door, as Edward shoved him aside. ‘Get yourself home, you’ve done enough for one night, show time’s over.’

Skye watched the car career out of the parking lot. He shouted, waving his fists.

‘I love you, I love you Mrs Barkley.’

Harriet folded her arms. ‘That was unnecessary, and very silly.’

Edward drove fast, too fast. ‘Silly?... the two of you behaved like schoolkids and you call me silly, Jesus Christ.’

She glared out of the window. ‘Only having a bit of fun, you didn’t have to say that about me, or what you said about him, and stop the car... I want you to go back for him.’ He didn’t stop. ‘Did you hear me?’

The car screeched to a halt and she slid forwards banging her head. ‘You think you know him, do you? You think you really know him! Well, believe me, you don’t. There’s more to Mr Duval than you could ever imagine, take it from me.’