Part 28 (2/2)

'How about later tonight? I've got a parents' evening at school, but I should be home by eight and with you by nine.'

'Sounds perfect. Oh, but hang on, I'm seeing Marty for a drink.'

'I could come over afterwards, when you're back.'

The implication was clear, and any fears he'd had that she'd regretted last night were now gone. She was as keen to see him as he was to be with her.

Up on deck, Bob was polis.h.i.+ng the bra.s.sware on board the Jennifer Rose. He'd been at it now for over an hour. One more porthole and then he'd go down below and make himself some coffee.

And then he'd ring Jennifer. He had to try to make her change her mind. She couldn't possibly have meant what she'd said during their last conversation. It must have been a reaction to her illness and the medication she was taking. She wasn't thinking straight.

When he'd phoned her at the weekend, her voice had been almost unrecognisable. Alarmed, he'd asked her if she was all right.

'According to the latest doctor who's seen me, I now have pneumonia,' she told him. 'I think they're working their way through the medical encyclopaedia.'

'I'll come down at once.'

'No. You mustn't.'

'But who's there to look after you?'

'Don't worry, my children are rallying round now.'

'Shouldn't you be in hospital? Pneumonia's serious.'

'If I was a child or an elderly old dear, then maybe. But fortunately I'm neither. I need to rest, that's all. How are you?'

'Miserable. I ... I miss you so much.'

That's when she told him. 'Bob, you've been so sweet to me, but really, it's time to be sensible. You're married. You have a wife and a family who all need you more than I do.'

'That's not true. They're all getting on with their lives without me.'

'What you mean is that they're getting on without Felicity and you can't bear that, can you?'

When he hadn't responded, she'd said, 'I'll always be at the end of a phone to talk to you, Bob, but we can only ever be friends. I blame myself; I turned to you when I was feeling low and alone, but now I know better.'

Since then, he'd gone over and over what she'd said. Part of it was true: the bit about hating his family for being able to carry on without Felicity. It was callous and heartless of them. The worst of it was seeing Harriet so pleased about that house she was buying. How could she be pleased about anything when her sister was nothing but dust in the ground? They'd driven home with Eileen and the children all chattering on about how the rooms could be decorated and what a lovely time they'd have living there, and Harriet had selfishly waltzed off to have a drink with Will. Bob had almost aired the thought he'd vowed he never would: why couldn't it have been Harriet who had died? Why Felicity? Why his precious Felicity? He knew it was a bad thought, but he couldn't help it.

Satisfied that the bra.s.swork was gleaming to perfection, he went down below. He was quite at home on the Jennifer Rose and knew where everything was kept. The boat was now safely moored at the marina, and as he'd promised Jennifer, he was keeping an eye on it for her. 'You can take it for a run, if you like,' she'd said. 'I'd appreciate those new engine parts being tested properly.'

He hadn't done that yet, but he'd got a rapport going with the older of the two men who ran the marina and they were quite happy for him to show up with Toby and potter about on the boat. He didn't have Toby with him today, because he'd known that he had to be completely alone when he spoke to Jennifer. He didn't want any distractions when he told her just how he felt about her. That he couldn't go on if he didn't think she'd be there for him.

Dora parked the car, switched off the engine and said, 'You've absolutely sure you want to do this?'

Eileen knew her friend was doubtful about what they were doing, but the time had come to think about herself.

She was tired of always making allowances for Bob. It was her daughter too who had died, but the way Bob went on, you'd think no one had loved Felicity but him. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had a proper conversation. All that pa.s.sed between them these days was fragments of conversation, and now that he had become so critical, she was d.a.m.ned if she was going to put up with it any longer. Felicity's death didn't mean the living were condemned to a slow death as well.

'Dora,' she said, 'I'm as ready as I'll ever be.'

'Then let's go, girl.'

The office wasn't at all as Eileen had pictured it. Where was the glamour? The promise of a romance and a new life? It looked more like a dental surgery waiting room. While they waited for someone to speak to them, she whispered to Dora, 'It's a bit down at heel.'

'So was the train station where Trevor Howard met Celia Johnson in Brief Encounter.'

Eileen giggled. Mostly from nerves. She had never cheated on anyone but now she was about to start living a double life.

The door opened and a plump, middle-aged woman came in, bringing with her a waft of strong perfume and slick professionalism. 'Eileen, forgive me for keeping you waiting. You don't mind me calling you Eileen, do you? Here at the Soiree Club, we like to keep things informal. So much more conducive to making new friends.h.i.+ps, don't you think?' She smiled across at Dora. 'But of course, Dora will have told you all about how we operate. Now then, I have your members.h.i.+p application here and I thought we might just run through it together. I think it would be advisable to pad out the section where it asks for hobbies and interests. As it stands, yours seems just a tad thin. What do you suggest we pep it up with?'

Eileen was at a loss. It was the part of the form that had worried her most. It had also made her realise just how little she did beyond the four walls of her home. She'd become as good as inst.i.tutionalised.

'Do you like to travel?' the woman asked her.

'Well, yes. But I haven't actually had the chance - '

The woman put a tick in the box opposite Travel.

'And I'll bet a pound to a penny that you're a fine cook.'

'Only very ordinary, everyday - '

A tick went in the box marked Cordon Bleu Cook.

'What about trips to the theatre?'

The last time she'd been to the theatre was to take the children to a Christmas pantomine. But now that she was getting the hang of the form, she said, 'Come to think of it, I've always enjoyed live theatre.'

'Excellent.' Another tick was added. 'Music?'

'I couldn't be without it.' Well, she did have Radio Two permanently switched on.

'Excellent. Now that really has pepped things up nicely.' The woman turned the page of the application form. 'Any health problems you feel you ought to share with us? Any mental health problems?' she added with emphasis.

This particular question had given Eileen some cause for concern. Dora had told her to fudge it, to keep things simple. 'No mental problems,' she answered truthfully, 'but I do get very tired. For some years now I've - '

The woman shrugged and gave a light, tinkly laugh. 'Tired! Oh, tell me about it. I'm constantly frazzled down to my last energy reserves.' She put a cross in the box and turned another page. 'Ah, it says here that you're separated. May I ask what timespan we're talking?'

Without batting an eyelid, Eileen said, 'My husband and I have been separated for some time.' She had no trouble with her conscience over this; after all she and Bob had been living separate lives for months now. Maybe even longer. It was just dawning on Eileen that Felicity's tragic death had revealed the stultifying emptiness of their marriage. 'Does it matter that I'm not actually divorced?' she asked.

'So long as you're honest with the gentlemen on our books and you explain your situation, we don't mind. We're not here to judge.'

'But what about the gentlemen? Supposing they're not honest? Supposing they're happily married and playing away from home?'

<script>