Jill Mansell - Sheer Mischief

‘Look, Nina knows what he’s like and she accepts it. If she doesn’t mind, why should I?’

‘Oh, so you’ve asked her.’ Maxine threw her a challenging stare.

‘Of course I haven’t asked her.’ Beginning to feel cornered, Janey retaliated crossly, ‘And I can’t believe I’m hearing this holier-than-thou rubbish from someone who once had an affair with a man because she’d "forgotten" he was married!’

‘That was me,’ said Maxine, forcing herself to keep calm. ‘I’m different. But darling, sneaking around with a married man simply isn’t your style. You’re too nice ...’

‘Bruno isn’t married.’

This was Janey’s mantra, the phrase with which she endlessly comforted herself in order to justify her actions. Of course the situation wasn’t ideal, of course she wasn’t proud of herself, but at least Bruno was not married.

‘She’s his common-law wife,’ Maxine continued remorselessly. ‘They’ve been together for years.’ Then she softened. ‘Oh Janey, that isn’t why I’m against it. I just don’t want you to end up getting hurt, and I’m so afraid you will. Bruno isn’t your type of man. He’s—’

‘You mean he’s your type,’ Janey countered bitterly. ‘And you don’t want me to have fun.

Well I’ve spent the last twenty months not having any fun and I’m not going to go back to that again. I like Bruno and he likes me. A lot.’

For the first times their rôles had been reversed. Maxine, struggling to keep her older sister on the straight and narrow, and to prevent her from being hurt, realized that she wasn’t making a roaring success of the operation. It wasn’t as simple, she thought ruefully, as Janey had always made it look. But if she told her exactly what Bruno had suggested the other night she would only splatter Janey’s fragile self-confidence and probably lose her friendship into the bargain.

Hell, it was hard being a good guy.

‘I’m sure he likes you,’ she said cautiously. ‘But I still don’t think he’s the right man for you, sweetheart.’

‘Stop it!’ Janey had had enough. With a look of disdain she rose to her feet. ‘I know it’s come as a shock to the system but you’re just going to have to face up to it. Bruno prefers me.

And you’re jealous.’

* * *

Life at the moment, Maxine decided, wasn’t being very fair. Returning to Trezale House, she ran into Guy at the foot of the stairs.

‘I’ve been trying to work,’ he said, gesturing with a handful of contact prints in the direction of the darkroom, ‘and the bloody phone keeps ringing. Someone called Bruno has rung three times asking to speak to you. He wants you to phone him back as soon as possible.’

Serena’s car was parked on the driveway outside. Glancing at it through the hall window, Maxine said, ‘Can’t Serena answer the telephone?’

‘She’s in the bath.’

Josh and Maxine had taken to laying bets on the duration of Serena’s famous baths. The longest so far had been an hour and forty minutes. Maxine hoped Josh was upstairs, timing this one. Keeping a straight face, she said, ‘Oh, right.’

‘She also tells me that you lost your temper with her this afternoon.’

Maxine’s dark eyes flashed. ‘And did she happen to mention why?’

Guy nodded. For a moment she thought she detected a glimmer of a smile.

‘OK, maybe she went a bit far but there was still no need for you to fly off the handle like that. We all have to make allowances if we’re going to get on together.’

‘Nobody else does,’ Maxine retorted sulkily. ‘I don’t see why I should have to be the one who makes all the allowances around here.’

‘You aren’t the only one,’ he countered, his tone brisk. ’I’ve answered the phone three times this evening, haven’t I? And I’m passing on the message, even though I don’t approve of what you’re up to.’

‘What I’m up to?’ She looked astonished. ‘Tell me, what am I up to?’

‘Oh come on,’ Guy drawled. ‘It isn’t too difficult to figure out. Bruno, I presume, is Bruno Parry-Brent. I might not know him that well, but I’ve heard enough to know what he’s like. And now he’s panting down the phone after you. Or as near as dammit.’

‘It’s none of your business why he’s ringing up,’ Maxine countered furiously.

‘Of course it isn’t. I just thought you might have had a bit more sense than to get involved with a married man. He’s hardly ringing up to check table reservations, is he?’

‘He isn’t married,’ hissed Maxine.This was ridiculous, now she sounded like Janey. ‘And I’m not involved with him! I don’t even like the man.’

‘Oh please.’ At this, Guy rolled his eyes. ‘If they’re male, you like them. If they’re female, Bruno likes them. Let’s face it Maxine, the two of you are a perfectly matched pair.’

‘Come out with me tomorrow night,’ said Bruno.

‘No, I don’t want to go out with you tomorrow night.’ Maxine, who had deliberately waited until Guy was in the room before returning Bruno’s call, spoke the words slowly and clearly. For good measure she added, ‘Or any other night. Bruno, I’ve told you before; I’m just not interested.’

‘I know.’ He sounded amused. ‘But I am. And the harder you play to get, the more interested I become.’

Maxine shot a triumphant glance at Guy, who was reading the paper and eating the children’s Jaffa cakes. ‘The answer’s still no.’

Guy, apparently engrossed in his horoscope, didn’t react.

At the other end of the line Bruno laughed. ‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you that the saintly act doesn’t suit you? Come on now, you owe me one night out at least. Have you any idea how much it cost me to get the nail varnish cleaned off that car seat?’

‘Serves you right,’ said Maxine briskly. And no, I don’t owe you anything. If you’re so determined to go out tomorrow night I suggest you take Nina.’

Guy ate another Jaffa cake.

‘She’s gone to stay with her sister in Kent.’

Maxine almost blurted out: ‘Take Janey, then, instead,’ though why she should bother to protect her gullible sister’s reputation from Guy she didn’t know. Instead, she said smoothly,

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone else to keep you company.’

‘I’m sure I will,’ Bruno replied good-naturedly. ‘It’s just that you were my first choice.’

‘What a shame you aren’t mine,’ Maxine retorted. ‘Goodbye.’

When she hung up, Guy lifted his head from the paper. Returning his gaze with pride, Maxine said, ‘There.’

‘Totally believable,’ he remarked dryly, shaking the last Jaffa cake out of the box. ‘The best piece of acting I’ve seen in years. Who were you talking to, the speaking clock?’

Chapter 23

Sunday mornings were funny creatures, Thea decided. Waking up alone on a Sunday morning, as far as she was concerned, was downright depressing. In the first months after the break-up of her marriage, she had spent each week dreading those few hideous hours above all others. Solitary Sunday mornings, like solitary Christmases, were the absolute pits.

And then there were the other kind .. .

‘What are you thinking?’ asked Oliver, leaning across and brushing a croissant flake from her cleavage.

Thea smiled at him. ‘That there really isn’t anything more wonderful than lying in bed on a Sunday with fresh croissants, lots of newspapers and a superb lover.’

‘Does that mean I trail in third?’ he protested. ‘Behind food and The Times?’

‘No.’ As she kissed his cheek, the newspapers crackled between them. ‘They’re nice but they aren’t crucial. Having you here is what makes it so wonderful.’ Her smile widening, she pushed back her long white hair. And of course there is the even more wonderful added bonus ...’