Moonshine. Victoria Clayton
someone lifted the receiver and I heard the sound of snuffling and rustling.
‘Jasmine? Is that you? It’s Bobbie.’
Several yawns and groans. ‘What … Who … Oh, hello, darling. I was asleep …’
‘I’m sorry. The message said to ring you at once. I’ll telephone you in the morning.’
More yawning and sighing. ‘No. Don’t ring off. I’m dying to talk to you. Just let me gather my wits …’ A long pause.
‘Jazz? Are you still there?’
‘Sorry. I’m awake now. You know how hopeless I am first thing in the morning.’
‘Actually it’s last thing at night. It’s just after twelve.’
‘No, really? Well, anyway, what the hell, it’s all the same to me now. Teddy’s left me!’ She began to cry. I had a vision of tears shining in her coal-black eyes and spilling down her golden cheeks.
‘Oh dear! Poor Jazz! I’m so sorry. You must feel wretched!’
‘I’m going to kill myself. I just thought I’d say goodbye as you are my very best friend in all the world.’
‘Thank you, but for God’s sake don’t do anything rash. Teddy isn’t worth it. I understand how you feel but, believe me, this despair will pass.’
‘You don’t understand! You’ve never been agonizingly, sickmakingly in love with anyone ever, have you? You were a tiny bit fond of David and perhaps that Russian, whatever his name was, for a week or two, and that man with the Daimler Dart who had that collection of dreary old books.’
‘Incunabula.’
‘What?’
‘That’s what you call books that are pre fifteen hundred … Oh, never mind. I expect you’re right. I’ve never been properly in love and I don’t know what you’re going through. But, dear Jazz, Teddy’s made you so miserable so often. There are other men in the world. Nicer, more intelligent, more amusing men who aren’t married. Better-looking men.’
‘Teddy’s the only man I’ll ever love. No one else interests me in the slightest. I can’t live without him. He only has to touch me and I feel faint with desire.’
I saw in my imagination Teddy’s porcine eyes in which there was always a leer, heard his self-satisfied laugh, remembered his damp hands that found excuses to clutch at any girl young enough to be his daughter. The paunch and the shining scalp were perhaps just a question of taste.
‘You think that now, but if you could only get through the first few miserable days you’d begin to see that he wasn’t so perfect. Don’t you think it’s rather mean of him to treat the two women he’s supposed to love, you and his wife, so badly and make you both so unhappy?’
‘Lydia isn’t unhappy a bit! She still doesn’t know about me.’
‘Hang on, I thought you’d insisted that he tell her. You said how much better you felt now the affair was out in the open.’
‘Apparently he only said he’d told her to please me. He couldn’t face telling her. That’s why he’s left me. Because he’s afraid she won’t let him see the children ever again. That’s the sort of woman she is! She’s bullied my poor darling Teddy, playing on his paternal feelings until he’d rather stay in a loveless, sexless marriage than desert his children. He’s got such a strong sense of duty. It’s one of the things I love about him.’
‘Either that or he’s a lying, two-timing bastard.’
This provoked such a wail of misery that I repented at once.
‘It’s a difficult situation for everyone,’ I temporized. ‘But remember that you’re a beautiful, kind, funny, delightful girl whom any man would be lucky to have. They’ll be falling over themselves to take you out once they know Teddy’s off the scene and you won’t have time to mourn the end of that particular affair.’
‘What do you mean, funny?’
‘Well, entertaining. You know, good to be with.’
‘You mean I’m not brainy like you and Sarah.’
‘No, not at all … I didn’t …’
‘Oh, don’t worry. I know it’s true. Sarah said her little brother’s stick insect is more intelligent than I am.’ Sarah could be extremely forthright. ‘She says Teddy has the charisma of a senile skunk.’ She wept again.
‘Don’t cry, Jazzy. Go back to bed and get some sleep. I’ll ring you tomorrow to see how you are.’
‘I shan’t sleep a wink. Everything here reminds me of him.’ I could not imagine why since Teddy rarely spent an evening at Paradise Row. I think he was conscious of Sarah’s and my dislike of him. ‘Bobbie darling, would your parents mind if I came to stay with you? I long to get away.’
‘Oh. Well … it’s a bit awkward with my mother being ill … and it’s so horrible here I think it would only depress you even more. It depresses me.’
‘You don’t want me. Nobody wants me! I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life! I’m too boring and ugly and stupid …’ The rest was drowned by sobs.
‘All right, Jazzy, if you think it will make you feel better, of course you can come. I’d love to see you. But you mustn’t mind if my father’s bad-tempered. He’s like that with everyone.’
‘Of course I shan’t mind. My father’s not exactly a thrill on wheels. How many evening dresses should I bring, do you think? And do you have a pool? I’ve just bought the prettiest bikini …’
Before hanging up I advised her about sensible shoes, jerseys and mackintoshes and assured her that we would not be attending Cowes Week. In fact, I reflected as I climbed exhausted into bed, she would need nothing but jeans. The only social life I had enjoyed while living with my parents had been suspended, temporarily or permanently. I could not go to Ladyfield while there was any danger of meeting Burgo there. Jasmine’s telephone call had been a timely reminder, if I had needed one, of the inadvisability of having anything to do with a married man. The greatest excitement I could offer Jasmine was a Viennese split at the Bib ’n’ Tucker in Cutham High Street.
I thought a lot about Jazzy the following morning as I dawdled through the trivial round, the common task. Or was it the common round and trivial task? Anyway, I made soup and chicken liver pâté, scrubbed out the larder as Mrs Treadgold’s back was playing her up again and she had a mysterious pain in her knees, and took out the rubbish, including a sackful of rejected paragraphs from the great work, Sunlight and Cucumbers. As I was returning from the dark little yard that housed the bins and coal I heard the telephone ring. It was Dickie.
‘Bobbie, you’ve got to help me. If ever a man needed a friend it’s now.’ I could tell from his tone that the crisis was not of the life-and-death kind so I told him to hang on while I cradled the receiver under my chin and attempted to bandage with my handkerchief a finger dripping with blood. I had cut it on some broken glass in the dustbin.
‘I will if I can,’ I said cautiously when the flow had been stemmed.
‘It’s the Ladyfield Lawn Tennis Club’s annual doubles thrash this afternoon. This year they’re playing the Tideswell Parva team. It’s a grim occasion but they’ve always had it here and I can’t let them down. We’ve got a hard court and a grass court, you see, so what with the two courts at the village school just down the road and a grass court at the Rectory next door they can get through the whole tournament in one afternoon. I’d like to get rid of them both, really – the courts, that is – since neither Fleur nor I play. Ugly things with all that wire netting. If you’ve got children of course … Anyway, there’s a certain obligation if you’ve got the only house of any size in the area to