Ordinary Miracles (29 page)

I stopped cleaning after that. Once you start cleaning it
acquires its own momentum, and I wondered who I was
trying to fool. Getting everything perfect in these rooms is not going to make everything perfect in my marriage. I can’t get Mr Proper to wipe out all that’s happened. I’ll
just make do for a while. Dust need not be too fearful in my
presence.

So now I’m slumped on the sofa reading
Hello
magazine
and admiring Richard Branson’s jumper and Caribbean
island, when the doorbell rings. It’s Susan. She’s come to
collect Bunty with me.

‘Susan, you’re going to be really pleased about something
I did this morning,’ I gush as soon as she comes through the door.

‘What did you do?’

‘I murdered Bruce.’

‘Oh my God!’ She’s put her hand to her mouth.

‘No, no, not really. I used a pillowcase.’

‘A pillowcase?’ She still looks alarmed.

‘That peach pillowcase. I used it as a stand-in. I turned it
into a duster then I poured bleach all over it and shouted at it and – and threw it in the dustbin. You keep telling me I
need to get my anger out. Well – that’s a pretty good start
isn’t it?’

‘Well done, Jasmine.’ She smiles warily.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘No. I’ve just had one at Liam’s place. We’re going out to
dinner later, so I can’t stay too long.’

Susan has set aside her Mills and Boon novel for the
moment. She’s living it instead. The dishy man with lots
of money that she met through Hilda, the hunt ball woman
at the home, flies over to see her once a fortnight. Liam is
still based in Provence but he also has a posh apartment in
Dublin
. As far as I can gather they spend most of their time
there having steamy sex. Susan hasn’t gone into details, but I
can tell what she’s been up to by the slightly dazed expression
on her face. She’s wearing that expression now. She also looks
rather furtive.

‘You’re looking a bit furtive, Susan,’ I say.

‘Am I?’ She looks around the sitting-room. ‘Is that painting
new?’ she asks.

For some time now I’ve sensed there’s something Susan is
not telling me.

‘No, that painting isn’t new. Susan, is there something
you’re not telling me?’

‘Look, we’d better go,’ she says. ‘I told you I can’t stay long.’

Then the phone rings. ‘It’s probably Anne,’ I sigh. ‘She
keeps ringing me up to ask me how I am, and then goes on
and on about her husband.’

‘Well, just tell her you’re going out,’ says Susan as I wearily
pick up the handset.

‘Hello.’ I say it quickly, trying to sound rushed.

‘Hello,’ says a voice, which is definitely not Anne’s. I
feel a rush of incredible joy, quickly followed by enormous trepidation – I must have been missing him even more than
I’d realised. I’d recognise that ‘hello’ anywhere. It’s Charlie.
There’s an uncomfortable pause while I sit down.

‘Hello,’ he says again.

‘Hello Charlie.’

‘How are you Jasmine?’

‘Oh, you know – this and that.’ As soon as I’ve said it I
realise it doesn’t make sense. ‘Quite busy,’ I add, now trying
to sound jolly.

‘You seem a bit surprised to hear from me.’

‘Do I?’

‘Yes. Is Bruce there?’

‘No. He’s still in New York.’

‘Ah.’ It’s Charlie’s turn to pause now. I feel sure the
telephone lines must be rattling with all the things we aren’t
saying.

‘So how are things at the studio?’

‘Oh, you know – this and that.’ I can hear him smile.

‘I’m sorry about – you know – the way I said goodbye. I
was a bit uptight.’ I’m waiting for him to say ‘That’s okay’
but he doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he’s waiting for me to
continue, so I add, ‘It’s good to hear from you Charlie.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes it is.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Actually I was wondering if you might
come round.’

‘What?’ I didn’t mean it to sound so surprised, so wary,
but it does.

‘Not to see me – I’ve got a favour to ask you.’ Char
lie’s voice has lost its warmth. He’s suddenly become very
business-like. He tells me that he’s rescued a horse that was being ill-treated. The horse is stronger now and needs to be
exercised.

‘You used to ride, didn’t you Jasmine?’ he asks.

‘Yes. A long time ago.’ I’m aware that Susan is growing
restive. She’s jangling her car keys in her pocket.

‘Could you come over and ride the horse sometimes – she’s

 

 
called Pinda? I’m keeping her in a neighbour’s field, but I
don’t have time to take her out every day.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ I say. ‘I mean I’d like to if – you know – I can.’ Susan taps me on the shoulder. She’s frantically
pointing at her watch.

‘I have to go now, Charlie.’

‘That seems to be a favourite line of yours lately, Jasmine.’

I’m about to explain that Susan is waiting for me but he says a tight-lipped ‘Bye’ and hangs up. I stare at the phone,
shocked, almost aching, but then Susan says briskly, ‘Come
on. Come on. The garage will be closed if we don’t get a move
on,’ and bustles me out the front door. She can be surprisingly
insensitive at times, especially if she’s in a hurry.

‘Ring him back this evening,’ she says when I’ve told her
about the way the phone call ended. ‘Charlie’s really fond
of you, Jasmine. More than fond actually.’ She gives me a
meaningful glance.

In the past I would have hotly denied this statement, but
now I let it pass. I really don’t know what’s going on between
Charlie and me, and I certainly don’t feel like arguing about
it. I probably won’t phone him like Susan’s suggested, though
I’d love to. I couldn’t take it if we had another stupid spat.

As we’re driving along, Susan says that her flat-mate will
be moving out soon and I can move in if I want to.

‘Well, I don’t know if I need to now,’ I say. ‘Bruce and
I are getting on much better since we saw that marriage
counsellor. You yourself said I should give my marriage a
second try.’

‘Yes, well, I just thought I’d let you know,’ says Susan.
She turns on the radio. An American woman is talking about
holidays abroad.

‘I’d love to go somewhere sunny for a holiday,’ I say.

‘Well, why don’t you?’

‘Bruce may not be free. He’s very busy these days.’

‘You could go yourself. You could go with me.’

‘What about Liam?’ I ask.

‘He wouldn’t mind.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes,’ Susan frowns.

We’re almost at the garage when I ask Susan to stop the car.

‘I have to go to the loo,’ I tell her.

‘You went to the loo just before we left.’

‘Yes, and now I have to go again.’

‘Can’t you wait until we get to the garage?’

‘No.’

She looks at me irritatedly.

‘Okay, okay, I’m nervous. I’m nervous about seeing Jamie
again. Look, there’s a cafe.’

Susan pulls over to the kerb with a sigh and I dart out of the car. My stomach is churning. I sit on the seat for some
time pondering my situation.

‘What kept you?’ asks Susan as I return. She’s looking boot-faced and impatient. All this sex seems to have made
her a bit aggressive.

‘I don’t think I’m just nervous about seeing Jamie,’ I say
as I get back into the car. ‘I think I’m nervous about driving Bunty too. Could you drive her for me Susan? Could you?’

‘No,’ says Susan. ‘Have you got your provisional licence
with you?’

‘Yes – I mean – oh dear, maybe I don’t.’

‘I think I saw you put it into your bag,’ says Susan.

‘Well then, why did you ask me?’ I’m getting a bit irritated
myself.

‘I forgot for a moment – okay?’ She says it very snappily.

I look at her. ‘If all this is too much bother for you Susan,
j
ust let me out here. Go back to Liam now and I’ll be fine on
my own. I don’t want you here actually. Not in this mood.’

Susan drives on for some time without speaking. As we
turn into the garage she says, ‘Sorry.’ And after she’s parked
she turns to me and adds, ‘I’m so so sorry Jasmine. I really am.’ She reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze.

‘Oh, it’s not that bad.’ It’s nice to hear a grovelling apology
occasionally, but this one seems rather overdone. ‘I was being a bit of a drama queen. You’re right, I must drive Bunty sooner or later, so why not now?’

The arrangement is that Susan is going to accompany me home in Bunty, and then I’m going to pay for a taxi to take
her back to the garage to collect her car. Jamie is with another
customer when we arrive, so we deal with his assistant. Jamie
wants us to wait so he can talk to us, but I tell him we’re in a
hurry and I’ll ring him sometime. I stick L plates on Bunty’s
back and front.