Almost a Crime (63 page)

‘Really? Look, I can’t talk about it now. Can I get back

to you?’

‘Yes, of course. Of course. We could have a drink

maybe. Talk about it. I’ll ring him, see what I can fix. Then

get back to you. How’s that?’

‘Maybe. I’m sorry not to be more responsive. Bit difficult just at the moment.’ He was clearly making an effort to be

nice.

‘Of course. I’ll phone you at your office.’

‘Thanks, Lauren.’

‘My pleasure. I’ll see you soon. Look forward to it.’

‘Me too.’

He was gone. She smiled into the phone, dialled the

offices of Oliver Nichols Pharmaceuticals, pic, in the City.

‘I’d like to speak to Mr Nichols,’ she said, ‘immediately,

please. It’s Mrs Bartlett speaking. It’s quite urgent.’

Tom got back to Fleming Cotterill at one thirty. Barbara

Dawson looked at him through rather bleary eyes. ‘I wish

you wouldn’t do this to me,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a dozen

calls, all urgent. Please let me at least give you the really

important messages.’

‘Barbara, I can’t take any calls until mid-afternoon. I told

you.’

‘Not even from Nico Cadogan? He’s rung again. Twice.’

‘No, sorry. Not yet.’ He looked at her. ‘You all right?’

‘No, I think I’m getting flu. I feel ghastly.’

‘Look, why not go home? Now. Get someone to sit in

here, just say no calls. I’ll take one from Cadogan in — let’s

see — an hour, and I’d also like a Mrs Bartlett put through

then, she’s trying to do me a favour. Otherwise, everyone

can wait.’

‘All right, Tom. Thanks.’

It was neither Barbara’s fault nor Tom’s that this message

became just slightly garbled and the temporary from the

accounts department who was the only person free to take

the calls conveyed a message to Mrs Octavia Fleming that

she was very sorry but she had strict instructions only to put

through calls from a Mr Cadogan and a Mrs Bartlett and no

one else at all until after four o’clock.

‘Bastard!’ said Octavia. She sat staring at her telephone.

‘Absolute bastard.’

‘Is it your husband of whom you speak?’

‘What? Oh — yes, Mells. Who else? He won’t even speak

to me. Only taking calls from Nico Cadogan and — and wait for this, Melanie - Lauren Bartlett. God, I hate that woman.

He’s off already. Louise hardly out of his bed. I just don’t

understand it, Melanie, I really don’t.’

‘Look, I don’t ever like to give a man the benefit of the

doubt,’ said Melanie, ‘but is there even a possibility here

that the message was wrongly conveyed? It sounds very

unlikely to me. Anyway, funnily enough I just came in to

say I’ve got the costings on the day at Brands Hatch. Could

you bear to look at them or not?’

‘All right, then,’ said Octavia fretfully. ‘What do I care

what she’s up to with my husband? She’s welcome to him.

She really is. Give them to me, Mells. I’m a professional,

aren’t I, for God’s sake?’ She managed a rather feeble smile.

‘That’s my girl. And you’ve got the Angel Gabriel. Don’t

forget that.’

‘No,’ said Octavia, thoughtfully, ‘no, I won’t forget that.

Not again.’

‘Right, that seems to be about it,’ said Tom, pushing back

his chair, handing the bankruptcy petition to Aubrey for

signature. ‘I’ll take it back right now. Get it over. Stop

hanging about. Now the great thing is, can we afford three

hundred and fifty pounds to make the application?’ He

grinned slightly shakily. ‘Quite a lot of money, just to go

bankrupt, isn’t it? Let’s have a cheque, Aubrey, there’s a

good fellow.’

‘Right. Shall we have a last drink? On Fleming

Cotterill?’

‘I think I’d rather do that when I get back. Give me

courage for the next stage. Breaking the news.’

‘Fine. I’ll have it ready for you. Cheers, Tom.’

‘Cheers, Aubrey.’

‘Look,’ said Nico Cadogan, ‘I don’t care if he’s with God. I

want to speak to him. It’s terribly important. Now will you please put me through?’

‘I can’t, Mr Cadogan. He’s just gone out.’

‘Oh, Jesus. Is Mr Cotterill there?’

‘Well - yes.’

‘Look,’ said Nico, ‘you sound a bright girl. If they fire

you for putting me through, I’ll take you on in my

company. It’s a deal. How’s that? Go on,’ he said, ‘live

dangerously.’

She put him through.

Rather less than two minutes later, she was startled to see

Mr Cotterill running extremely fast through reception and

down the stairs.

‘Look, I know it’s only a piss in a pot,’ said Nico Cadogan

modestly, ‘but you can have it. Five months’ fee, in

advance. That’s a hundred grand. Any good to you?’

For one terrible moment, Aubrey Cotterill thought he

might break down. Then he rallied, reached for the bottle

of Chivas Regal and poured three very large glasses.

‘A great deal of good,’ he said, ‘and I have no idea why

you should be doing it.’

‘Easy,’ said Cadogan. ‘I’m impressed by excellence. I’ve

found it here. Cheers!’

‘Come on, Mrs Fleming. Come over here and have a good

old-fashioned cuddle.’

She looked at him; he was sitting on a rather lumpy sofa

in the sitting room of his flat in Pimlico.

‘It’s all right. I’m not going to try and seduce you. I’m

perfectly resigned to our first and rather splendid sexual

encounter being our last.’

‘Gabriel—’

‘All right. Not perfectly resigned. But temporarily at any rate. Right now I don’t feel very inspired anyway. And I want to tell you something. I think it might take that

shrivelled look off your face.’

She went over to the sofa and he put his arms round her.

It was soothing, cosy, brought back her childhood …

‘It was this,’ said Gabriel. ‘Now, I’m not very used to

having this sort of conversation, so you’ll have to be patient

with me. But I — well, I do find myself extremely …

engaged by you. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I

haven’t been in love with anyone for a long time.’

‘Gabriel! What about the fiancee?’

‘That was a long time ago. When it began. But I think I

could be now. In love, I mean. Only I know this is a

dreadful time for you, and you probably don’t know what

you think about anything.’

‘I don’t,’ said Octavia, ‘that’s exactly it. I don’t know

what I’m doing half the time, I can’t remember my own

phone number, and I got in the car this morning and I

literally couldn’t remember where to put the key.’

‘Not the dynamic Mrs Fleming at all.’

‘Not at all. And I hate it. Hate feeling out of control. All

the things that were important to me, that I was sure about

- my marriage, my career, my best friend — none of them is

there any more. And the other really important person in

my life—’

The?’ said Gabriel hopefully.

‘Well…’

‘It’s all right. I know I’m a new ingredient. Your father?

Your omnipotent father?’

‘Yes. At any time at all I could go to him for help and

advice. I’d learned not always to take it, but at least it was

there. Now I just daren’t. He’d kill Tom if I so much as

indicated I’d like it. He’s out to destroy him professionally

as it is.’

‘Can he do that?’

‘Well, he can make things much more difficult for him.’

‘And does that matter to you?’

‘There’s nothing I’d like more in some ways than to see

Tom destroyed. But in another — it wouldn’t help the

children. It won’t help me. And — oh, God, I don’t know.’

She found she was crying again. ‘Sorry, Gabriel, I’m so sorry.’

‘I think,’ he said carefully, handing her one of the large

unironed handkerchiefs he always seemed to have in good

supply, ‘I think actually you still care about Tom. Rather a

lot.’

‘Oh, no, I don’t, Gabriel. I actually think I hate him. I

find it hard to be in the same room as him. At this very

moment he’s with some woman.’

Tom had phoned her, apologetic, had said could they

defer their conversation, he had urgent business to see to,

and a meeting with—

‘Lauren Bartlet,’ she had said. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t

been talking to her because I know you have.’ And clearly

too taken by surprise to deny it, he had said yes, actually, he

had, and she had arranged a meeting with a friend of hen

who just might be able to help him.

‘Good for him,’ she had said and put the phone down.

‘Now listen,’ Gabriel said, ‘all I’m trying to say is that for

the foreseeable future, I’m here if you want me. And I’ll

bugger off if you don’t. How’s that?’

‘It’s pretty good,’ she said, smiling. ‘Thank you.’

She bent to kiss him; he was nice to kiss, gentle,

responsive, careful. Just for a moment, she wanted to do

more; but only for a moment. It was too soon; too soon and

too confusing.

‘For various complex reasons,’ said Tom, ‘I think we can

still survive. Just about.’

‘I presume you mean Fleming Cotterill,’ said Octavia,

‘rather than us? Much more important of course.’

Tom looked at her and sighed. ‘Yes. Yes, I do mean that.

We’ve had some pretty tangible expressions of loyalty.

Which is nice.’

‘Very nice. Good.’

‘Octavia, the Macintoshes are in town tomorrow.

They’ve asked us to dinner.’

‘Tom, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Of

course I’m not going out to dinner with you and the

Macintoshes. It’s over. You’ve seen to that. I no longer wish

to function as your wife. You’ll have to take someone else

to dinner. What about Lauren Bartlett?’

‘Don’t be so bloody silly,’ said Tom. ‘Octavia, I’ve told

you so many times. I cannot stand Lauren Bartlett.’

‘Then why instruct your secretary to put her calls

through and block mine?’

‘Oh, Jesus. That was a stupid mistake. Look— can we just

keep to the matter in hand? It’s terribly important. If you’d

only come out to dinner tomorrow. With the Macintoshes.

He’s so fond of you and—’

‘Well, in that case, he’ll understand why I’m not there.’

‘Octavia!’ He stood up suddenly, moved across the room, smashed his fist down on the small table next to her.

She jumped, stared up at him. ‘Will you please listen to

me?’ he said, and the expression in his eyes was frantic,

almost violent. ‘I can imagine how you feel. About me,

about everything. But can’t you get it into your head I am

fighting to survive? Yesterday I went down to the courts, to

file a petition for my own bankruptcy. It seemed the only

thing to do. There was nowhere else to go, nothing else to

do. If that had happened, we would have lost everything.

The house, our personal assets, everything we’ve worked

for. God knows what you think that would have done to

the children. Oh, I suppose you could have gone to your

father, but - anyway. We were saved by Nico Cadogan.’

‘Nico!’

‘Yes. He came forward with a hundred grand.’

‘Why on earth did he do that?’ said Octavia. She was

genuinely amazed.

‘I imagine because he felt we were worth it. That’s what

he said anyway.’

‘My God. I wonder if my father knows about that.’

‘I have no idea. Neither do I care. Anyway, as a result,

we’re in a position to battle on a bit longer. But we’re still

on a knife edge. The bank won’t let us have another penny,

we need a couple more accounts, and above all I need to

keep the ones we’ve got. Even that hasn’t been easy. As you

know. Anyway, Bob has been an absolute brick. And this is

not a business occasion tomorrow; he phoned and said he

reckoned things must have been very tough and he’d like to

give us a nice evening. I don’t want to throw that in his

face.’

‘Take Aubrey. What’s wrong with that?’

‘I am taking Aubrey. But he specially asked for you as

well. He’s terribly fond of you, so is Maureen.’

‘Tom, I really don’t believe he’ll withdraw his account if

I don’t come.’

‘He won’t. Of course he won’t. But it will be easier,

happier if you do, it will mean one less thing for me to sweat through, have to smooth over. I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to throw his kindness and support back in

his face — Jesus, Octavia, I run that company for all of us,

you know, for the children, for—’

‘No, you don’t. You run it largely for your own

gratification. To feed your own ego.’

Even in her own hurt and misery, she could feel that one

going home. She stared up at him, actually saw him wince

physically.

‘All right,’ he said after a pause, ‘have it your own way.’

And walked out of the room.

She sat there for a long time after that; she felt shaky. Shaky

and something else. Uncomfortable. Uneasy with herself.

She had no idea why. She had every justification for saying

anything at all to him, she knew. He had absolutely no

claims on her loyalty, no right to call on her kindness. He

had forfeited those things long ago, when he had first

become involved with Louise.

She stood up, heaped up the untidy pile of newspapers

and picked up the mugs and glasses. She looked round the