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The Age of Misadventure. Judy Leigh
Читать онлайн.Название The Age of Misadventure
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008269234
Автор произведения Judy Leigh
Издательство HarperCollins
I face him, square on. ‘Bonnie’s your wife, Adie. You can’t just go with other women and pretend it doesn’t matter. It’s disrespectful to everyone. And it’s not the first time. Why do you think she left you just before Demi’s wedding?’
Bonnie winces but she’s still gazing at Adie. I look from her to his face – he’s staring at her, all apologies, pretending to be sorry, and her lip trembles as she whispers his name. Love is blind. And stupid.
He puts a thumb to her cheek, brushes the skin as if it’s delicate silk and sighs. ‘Bonnie, please forgive me. I’ll never look at another woman again. I promise.’
She sniffs and a tear rolls down her face, then another. He has her where he wants her.
He takes her face in his hands. ‘Let’s go away, you and me. Let’s take a long trip. Goa, Sri Lanka. Let’s go tomorrow, stay for three months. Georgie can keep an eye on things.’
I snort loudly. He doesn’t notice.
‘A second honeymoon. Just think – we could renew our vows. We could stay as long as we like. Away from this awful place. Just you and me. What do you say, Bonnie?’ He pauses and then goes in for the killer persuader line. ‘Bon-Bon?’
I open my eyes wide. Bon-Bon? The chair scrapes and Bonnie staggers to her feet, snuffles and runs away. I hear her gasp and sob.
Adie glances at me, his face full of loathing, and then he chases her down the steps to the reception level below.
I rub my hands across my face and through my hair. I long for a shower, a piece of toast. I squint at the clock. It’s half nine. I wonder if she’ll leave with him. I hope not. I remind myself that on Sunday I’ll go to Nanny Basham’s to make her lunch. Bonnie could stay here and we could go together.
Below, I can hear Adie’s voice talking, lilting with emphasis. There’s a brief pause, a soft whisper, so I assume she’s sobbing and then he starts again, all syrup and persuasion. I try to ignore them, breathe deeply, but instead I pick up a paper napkin and shred it between my fingers into a hundred pieces.
His phone is across the table. I glance towards where Bonnie and Adie have gone downstairs. There’s no one around, so I reach for it and flick it open. I know I shouldn’t, but I wonder how many other women he’s in contact with: his phone could have evidence of his philandering.
I check his most recent phone call – there are no details of a number, but he’s spoken to the same unidentified caller three times today and five times yesterday. I look back through his other calls. He’s tried to phone Bonnie a dozen times, more. Then I notice he has an unopened text, and I press the button and catch my breath. There it is, the photo of Bonnie and me and the man, Duncan Beddowes, taken in Adie’s office. Bonnie’s posing, smiling for the camera, and my face is twisted in annoyance. Just below it, the message reads: I never make empty threats. The phone nearly slips from my fingers.
I hear voices becoming louder, Adie’s protesting and Bonnie’s petulant tones. I thrust the phone to the other side of the table and start to play with the shredded napkin, sip cold coffee. The happy couple appear, holding hands, Adie cheerful again, Bonnie looking sad. She can’t meet my eyes. Adie’s smirking, triumphant. He speaks first.
‘We’re going home now.’
‘Bonnie?’ I stare at her. ‘Bon, are you sure?’ She shakes her head, nods and shrugs. I stand. ‘I want you to ring me later, Bonnie.’ I stare at Adie, who’s wrapped an arm round her and is now helping her into her coat, a true gentleman. ‘Seriously, Adie. I want to know she’s all right.’
He lifts his coat, turns his back and points her towards the stairs. ‘You don’t need to worry, Georgie. But thanks for your help. We’re all fine now.’
He’s eradicated his infidelity in one sentence. I glare at him. He remembers his phone, scoops it from the table and pushes it in a pocket. Bonnie looks over her shoulder as she’s ushered away.
‘Georgie, I …’
‘Ring me.’
He steers her down the stairs and the last thing I see is her staring over her shoulder, a round-eyed gaze and smudged make-up. I breathe in and out like a seething dog and clench my fists. An image is soaking into the screen of my mind and words follow: the picture of Bonnie and me either side of a man we don’t know and the warning underneath: Remember …
Adie’s made a very real enemy and he’s definitely in trouble above his head. I wonder what sort of corrupt business he’s involved in. A shiver goes through me, from my shoulders right down to my toes.
The next day, Nanny’s surprisingly quiet during my visit. She picks at her roast dinner for one and leaves most of it on the side of her plate. When she gazes at the television, she hardly hears me talking to her. I sit on the rug, snuggle against her knees and gaze up at her as she sips the last of her beer. The music booms and a smooth voice proclaims today’s news headlines. There’s a politician who’s in trouble. He’s made a crass remark and other politicians are calling him a buffoon and demanding that he resign. A woman from some fiscal group at a university talks about 3 per cent inflation, how prices are going up, and that it’s going to be a hard summer for investors. Nanny tuts.
Then the local news: the screen moves to a street I recognise in Norris Green. A man’s voice narrates that the police have staged a big coup to do with money laundering in which a large amount of cash was involved: the first man was arrested in what’s expected to be a sequence of arrests. I stare at the screen, at a plastic door with no lights on inside. I remember the same view from Adie’s Boxster. An old pair of trainers hangs from the telegraph wire. It’s the same house.
Nanny Basham adjusts her glasses and sucks her teeth. ‘This city is full of scallies. It never used to be like this.’
I shake my head and wonder if Adie has anything to do with the crime on the television. When we stopped outside the house, he said someone owed him money. For a second, I wonder if he’s lost it all. I know he is a wheeler-dealer, but it’s possible he’s involved in something worse.
I mumble, ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if it’s connected to Adie. Who knows what he does? It’s probably not legitimate. Bonnie’s best away from him, Nan.’
‘I agree, Georgina. But it can’t be easy for her.’
‘Of course it is. You just walk out of the door.’
‘Splitting up, like you did with Terry Wood? Some women find it difficult to be by themselves all the time.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Perhaps Bonnie’s not like you, Georgina. Perhaps she doesn’t hold with your ideas about women’s lubrication.’
‘Liberation, Nan.’
The voice on television talks about the arrest and how further arrests will be made.
Nanny shakes her head. ‘They want locking up, all of them. And the key throwing away.’
Nan looks tired. I ask her if she’s all right and she tells me she’s fine, she’s just worried about Bonnie. We both are. I can’t stop thinking about the text messages; burned in my mind is the photo of us standing either side of the man called Beddowes and I can’t rid myself of the image of Adie’s fading pallor as he watched his business contact take the selfie.
Bonnie doesn’t call me. I text her three times on Sunday night and by midnight I’m so worried, I ring. She answers me with a faint voice. She’s in bed with a migraine.
On