Seductive Viennese Whirl (33 page)

McManus runs up to her and drapes her long Afghan coat over her bare shoulders.

"Oh darling, I'm so glad you're here," she says, pulling the coat closes. "Kissing him was awful, simply awful. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this acting lark."

Oh but you are Eva, you are.

When I got up this morning the crew had already erased all traces of their visit. They'd even removed the fake blood (a mix of ketchup and Worcester sauce - my idea) from the snow at the base of the tower where Eva had lain, after plunging to her death.

Although Alex and I waived the crew off a few minutes ago, we're still lingering outside the cottage. He glances at me shyly a few times.

"I guess we should go in. It's pretty cold out here," I say. He takes a step towards me. Another.

I'm so excited I can hardly breathe. This is it. It's finally happening. He's going to kiss me.

"I'm glad I met you," he says, with stilted formality. I'm so disappointed I just want to run away and then the next second his big warm arms are around me and I'm looking up into his eyes. We stand there, looking at each other, our breath condensing on the icy air.

Hey, what's going on? He's pulling away. My chest feels exposed without him pressed against me. I wrap my arms around myself.

He rakes his hand through his hair.

"Good of McManus to write Ravi a check for more film stock wasn't it? I only wish I could have been of more help to him. I should have tidied the place up, let the crew stay in the Schloss for free. That would have saved Ravi a bundle."

"You did enough," I say testily. I'm getting a bit pissed off with him whining on about what he should have done if you want to know the truth. "Look, can you do me a favour?"

"Yes?" he says, his eyes lighting up.

"Could you go get my car and drive it back up here?"

"Sure." He looks a bit sad, like he thought I was going to ask him something else. I hand him the car keys.

"I'll take a bath over at the Schloss, if that's all right. It's still open?" He nods and walks away.

Over at the Schloss I soak in the claw-foot tub. The corridor outside is letting out weird creaking noises. I half expect someone to come in. Maybe the place is haunted, maybe that's why Alex doesn't like hanging around in it. Or maybe Alex is pacing the corridor, wanting to come in, but not daring to. Wanting to tell me that he's really into me, that he's been trying to get up the courage to tell me. But the noises go on and still, no Alex.

I dry off and start the trek back to the cottage. I see the rental car, clumps of snow clinging to the roof. When I get up close I notice someone's in the car. I wipe the steamy window. It's Alex. Without thinking I open the door.

He turns to look at me and gives a slow, melancholy smile. He's tapping out a tune on the steering wheel in time to a song on the radio, but I don't know what song it is, I'm not really listening. All I can think is oh please, oh please will you just lean over and kiss me.

I grab his tapping hands. He looks surprised but lets me take his weathered long fingers and entwine them with my stubby little fingers and we squeeze hands. Emotion runs between us in long luxurious waves and still neither of us speaks.

"I wanted to ask you," I blurt.

"Yes?"

But I don't know what I want to ask. Idiotically, I say, "If you had three wishes what would they be?"

He thinks for a while, then says, "I wish I'd met you ten years ago."

I grab my hand away. "But why? What difference would it have made?" When he doesn't answer I start to laugh. "Believe me, you wouldn't have wanted to know
me
ten years ago. I was covered in puppy fat, rather than, well, in just plain common or garden fat, like I am now."

He pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses it so I think I'm going to pass out, his warm dry lips pressed against my knuckles. "Let's get one thing clear. You are not fat. Okay, so you're no twig, but to me you're perfect. And the reason I would have liked to have known you then was because back then I was prepared to take risks."

"And you're not now?"

He shakes his head and pulls my hand into his lap. "I haven't answered your question. You asked me what I wished for. Well, I wish Austria would win the World Cup and that…" He smiles. "Actually, this is kind of embarrassing but I've always had this fantasy about Claudia Schiffer doing my cleaning, in the nude."

"Oh really?" I say, in what I hope is a coquettish voice, holding his gaze and feeling powerful and sexy. "Why bother with that old mare? I'd clean for you in the nude."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would?"

"Sure."

"And what is it that you'd wish for?" he says.

"Oh that's easy. A pill that would mean I could eat as much cake as I wanted and never put on weight. A pill that would make my hair never frizz or get knotty and a pill that would make you fall in love with me."

I put my hand over my mouth, appalled at having said that last bit. He doesn't seem fazed by it, but I feel so humiliated. I just know I've got to get out. Away from all these emotions, which are overwhelming me, choking me.

"Forget what I just said," I say, my hand on the door handle.

"If you like," he says. "Although I'd rather not."

"Whatever," I say nonchalantly. "Will you come and see us off? We'll be leaving soon."

"I'll try."

I clamber out of the car and, in a daze, wander towards the cottage and push open the door. As soon as Eva sees me she starts chattering like a demented parakeet about her wedding plans, which she's going to have at the Estate in April, about who she's going to invite, about what dress she's going to wear. I don't take much of it in, but Eva doesn't notice. I nod and smile while she touches up her make up. McManus goes out with the luggage and two crates of Veltliner, and finally we follow him out. He clambers in the back. Eva gets in beside him, still chattering, about where they'll go for the honeymoon, who they'll have for bridesmaids. I scan the horizon for Alex - no sign of him - before getting into the driving seat.

"What are we waiting for?" she says clapping her bemittened hands together.

"I think Alex said he was going to see us off." Despite having made a total arse of myself in front of him just now I'm also filled with hope. I imagine him rushing up and me winding down the car window and him saying, "Thank God, I thought I'd missed you." Then he'll lean in and give me a big smacker, drawing gasps of amazement from Eva and McManus.

"Actually," says McManus. "He's gone to Vienna to pick up some parsnips."

"Parsnips?"

"I think that's what he said. He was getting into his truck when I talked to him just a few minutes ago. He was in a terrible rush."

While I start the car I barely hear Eva say, "Now Kate, what do you think for flowers? I can't decide between tiger lilies or peonies."

I don't answer as I start to drive down the twisting road, which lies perilously close to the edge of the mountain and is slick with ice. I tell myself firmly: So he's gone on a wild goose chase for parsnips rather than snogging you goodbye. Let that be an end to your fantasies, you mad cow.

On the plane, although there's an aisle separating me from the happy couple, Eva keeps leaning across to talk about dress material and footwear and the wedding buffet, until my head starts to pound. Finally, not getting any feedback from me she runs out of steam, collapses back in her plush seat and starts to doze. But just as I'm enjoying a brief respite, McManus parks himself in the spare seat beside mine and fills my glass with champagne. He starts a long ramble about what a fool he's been, thinking Eva was cheating on him. I nod and smile. Nod and smile.

"Well, it's all sorted now, isn't it?" I pat his hand, hoping he'll go back to his seat. "Thanks for paying the extra to get us into first class."

"No problem. And it's me who should be thanking you."

"What for?"

"Those animal rights people have stopped picketing the Estate."

"I can't say I'm surprised."

"It was incredible. The day after the talk show they'd all gone home. You're a real star."

"No, I meant that they probably got very cold. If they'd had a shred of sense between them they would have picketed you in the summer."

We turn to look at Eva who's woken up and is squealing, "Ooh, ooh. I think we're about to land."

As the plane touches down I'm bursting to be alone with Eva, hit a few Camden pubs and have a long girly chat. But we don't even end up leaving the airport together. She informs me she's off to Scotland with McManus and that she'll send the Haddock a letter of resignation as soon as she gets there. The thought of working at the agency sans Eva fills me with deep despair.

I feel so miserable on the Tube home I actually end up blubbing. I'm happy Eva's found true love and all that. I mean, wasn't that what this trip was all about, to get her fixed up with Mr Right? It went a bit awry, and Mr Right turned out not to be our phantom Count after all, but good old McManus. And in a round about way I'm responsible for getting them together, but it's not much of a victory, because I've lost my best friend in the process. When I get off the Tube at Camden, I run all the way home, because sleet is coming down in sheets. People are hurrying about with umbrellas, and I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing in this godforsaken country.

When I get up to the flat I run to the freezer in search of salvation. Finding a half full tub of raspberry ripple ice cream I carry it to the front room, slip
An Officer and a Gentleman
into the video, and ready myself for a self indulgent weep. The opening credits are rolling and I'm attacking the ice cream in frenzied frustration when suddenly, Alex's face appears before me. And something about it stops me. Suddenly the ice cream doesn't seem so appealing. I put it back in the freezer. I can't concentrate on the film and start pacing the flat in a state of agitation, not sure what to do with myself. I go to my room and pull out a bag that's sticking out from under my bed. It turns out to be my gym kit. Even the prospect of watching the poseurs strut about at the gym is better than this empty flat. After a thorough investigation of the shoes in Eva's closet I find a pair of Adidas trainers, two sizes too big but they'll do for now.

At the reception desk I decide to ask Doreen for advice on how to whittle away the soft rolls around my midriff. She tells me the quickest way to lose is to do a combo of resistance training and aerobics. This turns out to mean doing the weight machines, the running machine and taking step classes, as well as swimming wearing webbed gloves that make me look like the creature from the black lagoon. I almost faint at the thought of it all and it's only because I have absolutely no other temptations at the moment that I decide to give it a go.

Do tell me what you make of this new Alex, that is if you can get your head around it all?

Love,

Gherkin

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Junk food

Date: 4 January 2012

Dear Gherkin,

Nothing much to report. Only that I can't drive past a McDonald's without going in and buying at least two Big Macs. You know that I usually don't touch anything that isn't organic, so this craving thing is very weird. But I am a firm believer in giving my pregnant body what it asks me for. And if it so happens that my body urges me to gorge myself at McDonalds, then so be it. What's the point of feeling guilty about it? Fuck it, I say.

I'm quite prepared to say I was wrong about you flying out to surprise Alex, all right? Turns out your hunch was right after all. This new Alex character sounds like quite a catch. Don't quite understand where the original Count and Marquis disappeared to or what their connection is to this new bloke but maybe you will explain in good time.

Sounds like you made a bit of an ass of yourself, admittedly, but you are going to make contact again with him. Aren't you?

Love,

Egg

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Slimmed down Gherkin

Date: 20 January 2012

Dear Egg,

Today I decided to try and get into some size ten trousers I haven't worn for two years. And you know what, they actually fit. Well, fit is probably not exactly the right word. I have to lie on the floor to do up the zip, and I can neither sit or breathe in them, but it still feels like I've cleared a major milestone. Suddenly I'm into working out, really into it. I'm actually beginning to scare myself. Sure, I'm losing weight, but what really hooks me is the repetition, of the step class, of the thud thud of my feet on the treadmill that puts me in a trance, that gives me a temporary respite from thinking about Alex. My heart leaps every time I get home from work and find a pile of mail on my doormat. I'm panting with excitement, on my knees, not even bothering to take my coat off, sifting through, looking for his familiar handwriting. How sad is that? Admittedly I could write to him. But what would I say? Where would I begin?

Things are weird at the moment. Really weird. The other day Simon offered me a bite of his Snickers Bar. And do you know what? I refused. I didn't feel like it. It's the same with cake. I can actually walk past a patisserie without gluing my face to the glass and slobbering like a hound. I expect my reduction in sugar cravings is in direct correlation with my reduced levels of stress. And with the Haddock on her leave of absence things are very, very quiet. I've even stopped fantasizing about having her assassinated. And I've thrown away the voodoo doll, because its magical fertility powers were beginning to freak me out.

Although I don't usually take a blind bit of notice of what she says, Briony's commented once or twice on how nice I'm looking. And other people have complimented me too, so maybe it really is true. All you need to look great is to be love sick and working out seven times a week. Plus lashings of dog shampoo of course.