Part 24 (1/2)

'He's not behaving nearly as badly. Your friend Daisy did me a huge favour, recommending you,' she went on. 'But I didn't...realize...' She seemed to hesitate.

'Realize what?'

'Well, what a...coincidence it all was.'

I stared at her, electrified. 'What do you mean?'

'Well,' she giggled again. 'What I mean is-your knowing James.' I felt as though I'd been punched in the solar plexus.

'I, erm, don't know him, actually.'

'But you used to?' I looked at her. 'Didn't you? He told me.' I felt as though an ice cube had been dropped down my neck. 'I saw him talking to you after the fete, you see, so of course I asked him, as any wife would...'

'Oh, well,' I said, recovering, 'I did...know him, yes, that's right, but it was...a long time ago.'

'Don't worry,' she said, placing her hand on my forearm in a gesture of solidarity. 'I completely understand.'

'Understand what?' I was still smiling in order to cover my discomfiture.

'Well, why he didn't tell me at first.' And now, suddenly, I felt as hot as a flame. 'It's so typical of James,' she went on. 'His consideration for other people's feelings.'

'I'm sorry?'

'Well, because he didn't want to embarra.s.s you. But there's no need for you to be embarra.s.sed, Miranda. When I think of all the huge crushes I had when I was a teenager.' I felt my palms go damp. 'And I know that James was very dishy when he was younger-those blond curls!' she exclaimed with a laugh. 'I've seen the photos, Miranda-I'm quite sure he was irresistible.'

'I...hardly knew him,' I shrugged. 'It was a very...casual acquaintances.h.i.+p.'

'Oh! But that's not what he said! He said you were infatuated with him. But don't worry,' she went on, with tipsy, though clearly genuine, sincerity. 'I just wanted to tell you that it's okay. I'm not the jealous type. I'm very happily married, and I wouldn't like you to think, if you ever met us again together, that it was in any way...' she groped for the appropriate expression, '...awkward.' Alcohol had made her tactless and cra.s.s. 'I'm very happy to be friends with James's old flames,' she concluded warmly. She laid her left hand on my arm again. 'I just wanted to tell you that.'

'Thank you,' I managed to say.

'I must say, though, I think you were very brave,' she went on, with another sip of champagne.

'I'm sorry?'

'Well,' she said, her eyes widening. 'He told me about the things you used to get up to.' I stared at her, my heart banging against my ribcage. 'When you were in Brighton. He said you were quite...naughty,' she grinned. 'Mind you, I think spraying graffiti on a fur shop's rather heroic, actually. Good for you, Miranda! I wish I'd had the guts to do that kind of thing, but my father would've cut me off like a shot!'

'Caroline-' I said.

'Oh, there you are, Miranda!' It was David. 'Sorry about that.' He peered at me. 'Are you all right? You look rather flushed. I guess it is a bit claustrophobic in here. We'll go and eat now. He suddenly noticed Caroline. 'Hi, I'm David White,' he said, extending his hand. I saw her glance at his scars, then she looked back at his face.

'I'm Caroline Mulholland,' she replied with a smile. 'Very nice to meet you. Anyway, it was lovely to see you, Miranda. I really hope we meet again.' I gave her a faint smile.

'Shall we go then?' David asked.

I nodded. 'Goodbye, Caroline,' I managed to say.

'Who was that?' David enquired as we left the gallery. It's the wife of the man who's responsible for your disfigurement. 'The name ”Mulholland” rings bells with me for some reason,' he added, as we turned right.

'Oh, she's just a client of mine.'

'Isn't there a politician called Mulholland?'

'Yes, I...think there is. But she had a very difficult... Weimaraner, you see.'

'What was the problem?'

'It was a total b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

'It was what?'

'I mean...to her other dogs. It was very...domineering, and basically it needed to have its status reduced.'

'Did it work?'

'Apparently it did. She was just telling me about it.'

As we crossed Charing Cross Road, I worked out why Jimmy had told Caroline what he had. Yes, she had seen us talking at the house, and yes, she must have wondered-especially as she'd had no idea we'd ever met. But what Jimmy had done wasn't just to cover himself against her spousal suspicions. He had launched a pre-emptive strike. By telling her that I'd been 'infatuated' with him, and that I'd been 'naughty'-he'd effectively discredited me, in case I blabbed. His pretence that he'd been protecting me from embarra.s.sment by not telling her that he had once known me, filled me with rage.

'Do you like Chinese?' I heard David say as we walked down Cranbourn Street.

'Yes, I do.'

'Because there's a good one I know in Lisle Street.' It was dusk by now and I saw a cloud of starlings zig-zag across the darkening sky. As we turned into Leicester Square we heard music. On the east side was a funfair, with an old-fas.h.i.+oned carousel and a white-knuckle ride. We looked up at its huge Meccano arms, spinning and oscillating with their shrieking human cargo, heads thrown back, hair flying.

'EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!' we heard above the music.

'AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!'

'CONFESS YOUR SINS AND BE SAVED!!' Standing a few feet away was a man in a bomber jacket clutching a powerful microphone. A small crowd had gathered in a semi-circle and were listening to him in a desultory way. 'CONFESS YOUR SINS AND BE SAVED!!' he boomed. 'FOR DOES IT NOT SAY IN EZEKIEL, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN, VERSE THIRTY, ”REPENT AND TURN AWAY FROM ALL YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS. LET INIQUITY BE YOUR RUIN!!”'

'Come on,' said David. He grabbed my hand. 'We can do without the fire and brimstone.'

'FOR G.o.d REJOICES IN THOSE WHO REPENT,' the man roared. 'FOR, AS IT IS WRITTEN IN LUKE, CHAPTER FIFTEEN, VERSE SEVEN, ”I TELL YOU THERE SHALL BE MORE JOY IN HEAVEN OVER ONE SINNER WHO REPENTS THAN OVER NINETY-NINE RIGHTEOUS PERSONS WHO NEED NO REPENTANCE”!!'

'Still, it's a free country, I suppose,' David muttered.

'SO I SAY TO YOU AGAIN, MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS, CONFESS YOUR SINS AND REPENT!!'

I must confess to David, I thought bitterly, as we walked through Leicester Place. There was no longer any excuse for me not to have done so. At the beginning I could reasonably argue that I didn't know him well enough; but we'd met four times now, so that was no longer the case. I would tell him. This evening. I would finally do it.

'Here we are,' he said. We'd stopped outside a restaurant called the Feng s.h.i.+ng. 'They do good lobster noodles here. Is seafood out of the question for you?'

'No. I eat it occasionally.' We were shown to a table at the back.

'I'm starving,' David said. 'Fried squid?' I nodded. 'Scallops in black bean sauce?'

'Fine by me.'