An Eligible Bachelor (43 page)

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Authors: Veronica Henry

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BOOK: An Eligible Bachelor
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‘No.’

‘Shall I pick us up a video while I’m there?’

Yippee, thought Charles. Saturday night in with a video. Wasn’t the whole point of having Travis to give them the chance of a social life, not give him the opportunity to go on the razz? But he didn’t protest.

‘If you like,’ he replied.

Henty picked up the car keys.

‘Can you give the kids a shout? There’s a tuna bake in the oven – it should be ready in five minutes. I’ll do us some pasta when I get back.’

A moment later she was gone. Charles didn’t think he had ever felt the kitchen so empty.

At seven o’clock, Johnny and Ted went into Eldenbury for champagne and 7-Up.

‘This is a Very Special Occasion. We need a toast,’ Johnny had announced solemnly. ‘Come on, big boy. We’ll leave your mum to get the supper ready.’

Honor had opened her mouth indignantly, but Johnny gave her a wink.

‘Only joking. We’ll pick up a Chinese.’

‘Chinese?’ said Ted. ‘I’ve never had a Chinese.’

‘Well, this is where your education starts,’ said Johnny. ‘We need sesame prawn toasts and wonton and spring rolls and chow mein and prawn crackers…’

‘Chicken and cashew nuts for me, please,’ said Honor.

‘I know,’ said Johnny, holding her gaze. For some reason, she blushed. Of course he knew. How many takeaways had they had in the past?

As soon as they’d gone, Honor sat down at the kitchen table, chewing the side of her thumb. In some ways it was an enormous relief that the burden she’d been carrying round all of Ted’s life was lifted. Oblivious to the fact that a can of worms had been opened, Ted had been thrilled, and now he wouldn’t leave Johnny’s side. There’d been a barrage of questions, some of which they’d been able to answer, some of which they hadn’t. She had to admit that Johnny was brilliant at deflecting the trickier enquiries. He had a way of being able to explain things that satisfied Ted, for the time being at least. Probably because he behaved
like a child himself much of the time, thought Honor ruefully.

‘So, how are you my dad, exactly? I thought you had to be married to have a baby?’ Ted had asked, his mind clearly working overtime.

‘Sometimes God gets it a bit wrong,’ explained Johnny. ‘He’s so busy, you see. He knew your mummy was the right mummy for you, but he forgot to check if she had a husband. By the time he realized, it was too late. You had arrived.’

Their eyes met over the top of his head, each of them aware that the questions could get more complicated and more biological the more Ted thought about the replies he was getting. Which was the point at which Johnny suggested a boys’ trip into town, leaving Honor alone to take stock of the situation. She still couldn’t believe it, even now. Ted was ecstatic; Johnny was equally enchanted. It was only Honor who was wary. Rushing off for champagne was fine, she thought, but this was only the beginning. It was all very well having a heart-warming, Disney-style reunion, but there were a lot of issues to address. Sighing, she got out some porcelain bowls and the collection of mismatched chopsticks she had accumulated over the years. No doubt the answers would come to her, she told herself sternly. In the meantime, she should just relax.

The Chinese was a huge hit. Ted was as high as a kite: the combined novelty of having a father, staying up late, being allowed 7-Up and getting to grips with chopsticks, all mixed up with lashings of monosodium glutamate, meant he was in seventh heaven. Johnny too seemed
euphoric: he was making crazy plans with Ted. For some reason the warning ‘It’ll all end in tears’, so beloved of parents with overexcited children, kept repeating itself in Honor’s head as she ate her chicken and cashew nuts. But she didn’t want to be a party pooper, so she kept quiet. Who was she to spoil their moment, a moment they would probably remember for the rest of their lives?

Henty was ages. Charles fed the children, then sat at the kitchen table getting angrier and angrier. He could hear Robin and Walter squabbling upstairs, and the thump of loud music from Lily and Thea’s room, but couldn’t be bothered to go and remonstrate. Getting the girls to wash up had been like getting blood out of a stone – they’d moaned and groaned and hadn’t even touched the pasta-encrusted serving dish, leaving it on the side to soak. He couldn’t bear the thought of going up to tell them to go to bed. He didn’t need more abuse. He was starving, but it didn’t occur to him to start getting the supper ready. Women, in his experience, hated it when you took the initiative in the kitchen. He always seemed to use something that was being saved for a special occasion, or fail to use something that needed eating up that very day. So he opened a bottle of wine instead, and found some Carr’s water biscuits to keep his hunger at bay.

An hour and a half later, Henty finally rushed in.

‘Sorry. Travis made me come and have a drink with his friends. They wanted me to go into Evesham to a club. Can you imagine? Everyone would have thought I was his mother.’

She flopped into a chair. Her cheeks were slightly
flushed. Charles wondered just how much she had had to drink, then decided that she wasn’t foolish enough to risk her licence when he’d already lost his. Her demeanour must be a result of the company she’d been keeping.

‘The kids have had their supper. The washing-up’s done.’

Henty looked at him.

‘What’s the matter? You look like thunder.’

‘Nothing,’ said Charles sulkily. ‘Only it’s gone nine o’clock. I just wondered when we were going to eat, that’s all.’

Henty rolled her eyes and stood up.

‘Nothing stopping you from cooking,’ she retorted.

Charles only just managed to stop his jaw from dropping. She’d never spoken to him like that before. What on earth had got into her? He watched as she bent down and pulled a saucepan out of the cupboard. She was looking decidedly sexy. Charles felt a sudden urge for the comfort of her warm curves. He put his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck.

‘Why don’t we just have an early night?’

Henty turned her head and looked at him.

‘I thought you were hungry,’ she said coolly and, slipping out of his grasp, she walked over to the sink to fill the pan with water.

Charles felt as if she’d tipped an ice-cold bucket of water over him. That was an overt rejection of his amorous advances. He felt panic. He didn’t know what was happening to his wife, but he didn’t like it.

‘I’d like to take Ted away for a couple of days.’

Honor and Johnny were still sitting at the table,
finishing the dregs of the champagne. Ted had been dispatched to put on his pyjamas and brush his teeth.

Honor looked at him, her glass halfway to her mouth.

‘What?’

‘I’d like to… you know,
bond
with him or whatever they call it. Have some guy time together. He could come and stay at my place – it’s half-term this week, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but –’ Honor struggled to find a valid objection. Johnny gave her an easy smile.

‘Don’t panic. I’m really quite house-trained these days. My new flat is as clean as a new pin – I’ve a woman who comes in once a week to keep it spotless. He’d have his own bed. I can do sausages and fish fingers without burning the place down. And there’s always McDonald’s.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Honor reluctantly. ‘What about his collarbone?’

‘I’m a vet, remember? I didn’t do seven years of medicine for nothing. He’d be in good hands. Anyway, it doesn’t seem to be bothering him all that much.’

‘No,’ Honor had to agree. Ted had been very brave and hadn’t complained at all.

‘I thought if we went away, even if it’s just for one night, it would give you a chance to have some space and think things over. Without us breathing down your neck.’

He had a point. Honor was finding it difficult to be objective about her situation. Johnny made her nervous. Ted made her panic. Neither of them through anything they did, but because she knew their futures lay in her hands. Besides, she was tired. It had been a stressful week in many ways. Some time to herself would be very welcome.

‘I think we should ask Ted,’ she said. ‘If he wants to go, then fine.’

Of course, Ted thought the idea of going to stay with Johnny was the most exciting thing to have ever happened. Honor wasn’t sure if she was relieved or hurt by his enthusiasm. She wanted to cry, but told herself not to be so silly. Johnny worshipped Ted. There was no way he would let him come to any harm. And it would do Ted good to spend a bit of time away from her. She didn’t want him to turn into a mummy’s boy, after all.

Charles and Henty had a bowl of seafood pasta in front of the telly. At eleven, Henty announced she was exhausted and went to bed. There was no hint of invitation in her voice. Charles sat alone in the living room and ploughed his way through a second bottle of wine. What on earth had he done to deserve this treatment?

He thought back carefully. She’d changed ever since Travis had arrived. She’d gone from meek and biddable to… well, she seemed to have a sense of purpose. And drive. And she seemed to have blossomed. It wasn’t just the haircut or the make-up she’d taken to wearing. She had an aura that didn’t come out of a bottle. An aura that Charles was fairly convinced came from sex. Illicit and satisfying sex. Well, he wasn’t having it. He wasn’t having some Lady Chatterley scenario going on under his nose, especially when he was paying the wages.

At half past twelve he heard a taxi in the driveway. Travis was back. Charles shot out of the kitchen door, into the stable yard and blocked Travis’s way into the flat.

‘Hey, Mr Beresford. Everything OK?’

Charles took a step forward, realizing that the heavy Chilean Merlot had made him slightly unsteady on his feet.

‘Are you fucking my wife?’

The question came out rather more belligerently than Charles had intended. He’d meant to sound casual with an underlying menace, not downright aggressive. But Travis didn’t seem fazed. He looked at him levelly. Bloody cool customer for his age, thought Charles. He should be shitting himself.

‘No,’ said Travis. ‘No, I’m not. But if I was I’d be a lucky bloke.’

Charles took another step forward, clenching his fists.

‘Watch it. That’s my wife you’re talking about.’

‘I know it is. And you should be careful.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You treat her like shit.’

He spat out the last word in his guttural accent. Charles blinked in surprise.

‘Shit?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘I most certainly do not.’

‘Don’t try and pretend. You treat her exactly the way my dad treats my mum. A new kitchen? That only means one thing. Guilt. My mum has a different rock for every one of my dad’s affairs.’

Travis gave him such a look of distaste that Charles recoiled. How the hell could this kid have any inkling about what had gone on with Fleur? He laughed smoothly.

‘I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,’ he said.

‘Oh, I think you do,’ replied Travis. ‘And I think you should watch out.’

Charles feigned puzzlement.

‘Is that some sort of threat?’

‘No. It’s a warning. Henty isn’t the walkover you think she is. You carry on treating her like this and you might just lose out.’

Charles strode over and jabbed him in the chest, angry now.

‘I think you better mind your own business. I’ve a good mind to sack you. How dare you insult me in my own home?’

Travis put his hands up.

‘Hey. Back off. I don’t want to come to blows. I’m only telling you this because I care about Henty. And not in the way you think. She’s a really great person. She deserves some respect. Not to be treated like a doormat.’

‘I do not treat her like a doormat.’

Yes, you do. She’s only had a life since I arrived and took some of the pressure off.’

‘Is that what she told you?’

‘No. Of course not. She’s far too loyal.’

Charles was struggling to make sense of what Travis was saying.

‘There’s
something
going on,’ he persisted. ‘I know there is. She’s different. And I want to know why’

The drink was making him insistent.

‘Well, don’t ask me,’ said Travis. ‘Ask Henty.’

He turned and put his hand on the latch of the door that led to his room.

‘Try taking an interest in someone other than yourself
for a change,’ he added over his shoulder, then pushed open the door and stepped inside, leaving Charles swaying gently in the pool of light from the security lamp.

Despite his initial instincts, he believed the boy’s denial. Travis had stood his ground under questioning, and had even had the nerve to go on the attack. Charles felt slightly ill as he recalled his observations. Even more ill when he realized that the boy had spoken the truth. He was right. Charles was a miserable worm.

He’d ridden roughshod over Henty recently. He’d been an absolute arsehole, and all because of his own vanity and insecurity. It was an accumulation of things, he told himself. His lacklustre career – he wasn’t a failure, but it had all become rather humdrum and there was no doubt he had lost pole position in the literary circles he moved in. His looks – he knew his middle was thickening and his hair thinning, not to mention becoming sprinkled with silver that Charles struggled to find remotely distinguished. His handsome features had always been a boon, and the prospect of losing them made him panic. To top it all, he even felt unsure about his position in the family. He had to admit that Thea and Lily, now they’d entered adolescence, rather terrified him. Thea was so confrontational and Lily so manipulative, both traits which he thought they’d inherited from him, which made it all the more frightening. He left Henty to deal with their incessant demands and threats, reasoning that a woman would understand their needs better. But even that argument didn’t hold up. Walter and Robin still turned to Henty rather than Charles. They never came to him for man-to-man chats.

Charles put his hand over his eyes in despair. He was a useless husband and father. He was superfluous in his own family. They didn’t need him. He’d felt more and more like an outsider recently. The atmosphere changed when he walked through the door; became heavier. Thea and Lily rolled their eyes; Robin and Walter became wary. And now even Henty, sweet-natured, long-suffering Henty, wasn’t putting up with it any more. It was as if she’d finally realized what an utter knob she was married to, and had resolved to make the best of a bad job.

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