EPISODE FIFTY-SEVEN
On Saturday Nigel clambered out of bed, put his dressing gown on, and
delayed telephoning Jackie. There was
something niggling at the back of his mind.
Like himself, he knew she rarely watched television, and liked to listen
to the news on the radio. But what if
she happened to switch the television on for a change? It didn’t bare thinking
about.
He made himself a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea, then showered and
dressed. By then he was feeling more
confident. If Jackie had seen the
television news, she would surely have attempted to ring his mobile, and there
were no messages on his voice mail or any texts.
At ten o’clock he took the plunge and
rang her. Her voice was calm and sweet
when she answered.
‘Hello, Nigel. How did it go?’
‘Oh, it was hard work but stimulating.’
‘Where was it you went for this seminar?
I know it was up north, but...
‘Sheffield,’ he lied.
‘So when did you drive back from Sheffield?’
‘Last night.’
‘Was the M1 busy?’
‘I always cut across from the new M6 toll and down the M40.’
‘So you were definitely in Sheffield yesterday.’
A shiver ran down his spine. Why was she
pushing him on this point?
‘Hello, Nigel. Are you still there?’
‘Sorry. Yes. I was distracted. I think I
heard the post coming through the letter box.’
‘I expect you’re tired after that long drive last night.’
‘Not really,’ he purred, in what he felt was a voice of assurance. ‘I feel fresh enough to come over and cuddle
my bunnykins.’
‘So you were definitely in Sheffield all day yesterday.’
He thought they had moved on from Sheffield. Now alarm bells were clanging inside his
head.
‘Well?’ she demanded, her voice hard and cold.
‘Yes, I told you. The seminar was in Sheffield.’
‘So you haven’t been to Brighton recently.’
A harsh neon message screamed inside his skull.
She knows! He had already worked
out a story in advance, just in case she saw the television news item. But she had deliberately set him a trap,
letting him think she was blissfully unaware of the Brighton
bomb incident and his television appearance.
He felt a nauseous tremor in his stomach, then took a deep breath and launched
into his explanation. ‘I’m sure I told
you last week: the conference was in Brighton. The seminars were in Sheffield,
but the week culminated in a Brighton conference. The venue was too small in Sheffield.’
‘But you said you got back from Sheffield last night.’
‘No, no. Thursday night I drove to Brighton.’
‘That’s not what you said.’
He began stammering. ‘W-well, you...you see,
I’m still in a state of shock. It was
terrible. T-terrible. There was a bomb
at the Brighton hotel...and I still haven’t got over
it.’
‘You poor thing.’
Jackie’s voice oozed sympathy. But it
was overdone. Behind it lay shark
infested waters.
‘Yes, it was terrible.’
‘It was on the television,’ she snapped. ‘And you came out of that hotel with
your arms around another woman.’
‘She was distraught. Frightened. I found
her in the reception area in a state of shock.
I had to do something to comfort her and get her outside. After all, any moment that bomb could have
gone off.’
‘How brave of you, Nigel. So now you
won’t mind if I telephone the hotel in Brighton and find
out just what conferences were booked in for yesterday.’
‘What? Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because – frankly – I don’t believe you.’
‘Don’t be silly, darling...I’ve told you...’
But the line had gone dead. He tried
ringing back, but got the engaged tone.
How could he have been so stupid?
And why, why, why had he agreed to that brief interview with the
television reporter? It was his
ego. A big, fat, stupid ego. And now his relationship was in tatters
because of it.
*
Hot oil sizzled and spat as Ted tipped potatoes into a roasting tray. Marjorie sat at the table, trying to fold
paper napkins in the fancy way she had seen in their Florida
hotel.
‘I hope you’ve done enough potatoes,’ she said. ‘You know what an appetite
Alec’s got.’
Ted tittered. ‘Not to mention Freda.’
‘Now, now.’
Marjorie got up from the table, went to her handbag which was lying on the
dresser, and took out an envelope. Ted
put the roasting tray back in the oven.
When he turned round, Marjorie thrust the envelope at him.
‘What’s this? It’s not my birthday for
another fortnight.’
‘I wanted you to have this now. I
couldn’t wait any longer. It’s an early
present.’
Puzzled, Ted tore open the envelop and pulled out a Congratulations card, a
picture of a champagne bottle fizzing with silver and gold. He opened the card. Inside, Marjorie had written:
“To Ted, love to a father to be.”
Ted looked into Marjorie’s eyes, uncomprehendingly at first. She smiled.
‘I’m over three months pregnant. I
thought I’d save it as a birthday surprise, but...well, you might try and look
happy about it.’
IN EPISODE FIFTY-EIGHT
Chloe brings her boyfriend for the weekend and embarrasses the rest of the
family.