The Great Escape (17 page)

‘Oh yeah. Same eyes, same face shape around here …’ She touches her cheek.

Barney looks back down at his children. Actually, he can’t see any resemblance whatsoever; with their dark hair and creamy complexions, they’re miniature Sadies. He’s about to tell the girl this, then hesitates. With a small jolt, he realises he’s avoiding mentioning his wife’s name, or even the fact that his children have a mother. ‘Well, bad luck for them,’ he chortles awkwardly, fishing out coins and placing them on the counter.

The girl laughs. ‘I wouldn’t say that. Anyway, nice to meet you, um …’

‘Barney.’

‘I’m Magda.’ Another big smile. God, she’s commented on his eyes and now she’s introducing herself. He feels his eyebrows shoot up cartoonishly.

‘Well, thanks, Magda.’ He picks up his tray.

‘I’ll take that for you. You’ve got your hands full with the buggy. Where would you like to sit?’

‘Oh, anywhere,’ he murmurs, scanning the numerous empty tables. As he pushes the buggy towards the window, he wishes there were other customers in the café. Then he’d feel less exposed and self-conscious.

‘Here you go.’ Placing his tray on the table, Magda turns and heads back to the counter. Of course, it wasn’t really him she was flirting with, Barney realises now; it was universal-dad-of-cute-babies, like that Athena poster guy clutching the child to his bare chest. The very idea of comparing himself to a male model, shot in black and white, almost makes Barney laugh out loud. Lately, he’s wondered if the real crux of the matter is that his wife no longer fancies him.

Vaguely aware of Magda throwing him the odd glance, he recalls how he first glimpsed Sadie five years ago at a party in an impossibly smart Covent Garden flat. Barney knew Daniel, the host, from drama school, and Sadie was a friend of Daniel’s girlfriend. As a jobbing actor, Barney had led a haphazard existence, trying not to notice that his resting periods were becoming longer, punctuated during one bleak year by an appearance as an armed robber on
Crimewatch
. It had become clear that he had to come up with a viable alternative. Two significant things happened at Daniel’s party: he’d got chatting to the director of a charity who asked him to stop by for a ‘chat’ – nothing as formal as an interview – the following week. And he’d met Sadie Vella, a stunning brunette with melty brown eyes and curves to make any grown man collapse in a heap. A week later, Barney had a job and, more significantly, was pretty certain he’d met the love of his life. A year later, they married at Wood Green registry office in a flurry of confetti and kooky speeches from their gang of excitable and by now mutual friends.

The twins had felt like a gift, the icing on the cake. They
are
a gift, Barney thinks now, seeing Magda tip her head to one side and smile indulgently at his sleeping children (has he contravened The Schedule by allowing them to doze off?). But maybe it’s too much for Sadie, looking after them full time, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. It’s obvious now that they should have stayed in north London, near their friends, in a city with a billion things to do. It wouldn’t matter that the tiny local playground has been vandalised or that there were takeaway cartons strewn on the ground. A bit of graffiti and litter never hurt anybody.

‘So,’ Magda says, coming over to wipe the table next to his, ‘what are you up to for the rest of the day?’

‘Er …’ Barney’s mouth is crammed with currants and he quickly gulps them down. ‘Just going with the flow I guess.’
Don’t read anything into this. Magda’s only making conversation because you’re the only customer in here on a drizzly Friday.

She nods, rearranging the daffodils in the small blue vase on the adjacent table. Although he tries not to look, he can’t help but notice her darting gracefully between the other tables in a cute denim mini skirt over leggings, and a spotty top that hugs her slight, boyish frame. He flinches as his mobile rings, as if Sadie might have somehow spied him glancing at Magda from her Glasgow-bound train.

‘Hey, mate! How’s it going? Sadie off on that hen weekend?’

It’s Pete, Barney’s best mate from secondary school, a chick-magnet who, at thirty-six, has so far managed to breeze through life without acquiring any responsibilities beyond a small mortgage on his airy Clerkenwell flat. ‘Yeah, left this morning,’ Barney replies, realising he’s carefully omitted the word ‘she’. ‘Pretty excited, yeah,’ he goes on. ‘So, everything OK?’

‘Yep,’ Pete says. ‘Hope you’re enjoying your day off, though I guess it’s not exactly a holiday being in charge of those two monkeys …’

‘Oh, it’s been fine,’ Barney says jovially.

‘Good man. Anyway, listen, I’m finishing up early today so I thought I’d drive out to see you, have a couple of pints in your village pub, the what-ever-it-is …’

‘The Black Swan.’

‘Yeah. Nice place. So what d’you think?’

‘I, er …’

‘I know you’ve got the kids,’ Pete adds, ‘but it’s warm and sunny and they’d be okay outside in the beer garden, wouldn’t they?’ Barney looks out again, willing the drizzle to stop and the moody grey sky to turn blue. ‘I mean, no one would call social services for that, would they?’ Pete chuckles.

‘Nah,’ Barney laughs, ‘I reckon we’d be fine. Weather’s a bit dismal here but it might perk up. And it’ll be great to see you. You can crash on the sofa if you like.’

‘Great. Just feel like getting out of London, to be honest.’

Barney finishes the call and, balancing his cup on his plate with one hand, and steering the buggy with the other, he makes his way back to the counter.

‘Bye, Magda,’ he says with a big smile, buoyed by the prospect of Pete’s visit, even more so now as the rain has stopped, and weak sunlight is filtering through the clouds.

‘Bye, Barney. See you again soon, I hope.’

‘Er, yeah. Me too.’ As he barges towards the exit, clumsily knocking against a large plant, he tries to arrange his flushed features into a coping-dad face. Even though absolutely
nothing
has happened, he decides not to mention any of this to Pete.

TWENTY-THREE

Ladies and gentlemen, we apologise for this delay to our 12.30 service from King’s Cross to Glasgow Central, caused by signalling problems in the Newcastle area. We hope to be moving again shortly and will keep you informed of further developments. Again, we are sorry for any inconvenience this delay may have caused …

Lou doesn’t feel that any apology is necessary. She’s relishing the banter with Hannah, Sadie and Felix, and she’s grateful to be away from Let’s Bounce and Spike, beached on the sofa, clutching the remote control to his chest. ‘So you and your boyfriend have been together since college?’ Felix asks. His hearty guffaws and startlingly direct questions are refreshing, Lou decides as he tops up her cup.

‘Yep, sixteen years now,’ she replies. ‘I think that qualifies for some kind of long-service award, don’t you?’

‘He came along when she was a little stripling of nineteen and spoiled her fun,’ Hannah chuckles.

Although Hannah is joking, Lou has always suspected she doesn’t entirely approve of Spike. ‘He must have something, though,’ Felix insists. ‘Something that’s kept you together all this time.’

Lou rolls her eyes and grins. ‘Yeah, I suppose he must. Um, let me think …’

Sadie and Hannah burst out laughing. ‘He
looked
like a nice guy, dutifully standing there and seeing you off,’ Felix offers.

‘Oh, he is,’ Lou agrees. ‘He’s very, er …’ What should she say? When it comes to his glittering qualities, her mind is a complete blank. ‘He’s very … loyal,’ she adds, realising she’s made him sound like an elderly dog. ‘And he’s house-trained,
most
of the time.’

‘D’you have any children?’ Felix wants to know.

She shakes her head. ‘Nope, none of those.’

‘Want any?’

Lou almost laughs at his bluntness. ‘That’s so personal!’ Hannah protests. ‘God, Felix. You’re like some probing, on-the-couch interviewer. Are you sure you run bars and aren’t really a psychotherapist or something?’

Felix chuckles. ‘No, I’m just interested in people, that’s all. It helps with business, understanding what makes people tick. And, you know, my job is all about bringing people together so …’ He smiles affably. Lou studies his expressive face, the mobile brows, the hazy grey eyes, the way he shoves back his messy fair hair distractedly. He’s tipsy, she decides, but not drunk. His top has a small splash of champagne on the front.

‘Well,’ Lou says carefully, ‘I would like kids actually, but Spike’s not keen.’

Hannah frowns at her. ‘Really, Lou? I didn’t think you did. You always said you weren’t sure, that you weren’t convinced that you and Spike—’

‘I’ve kind of changed my mind,’ she says quietly.

‘Have you?’ Sadie asks. ‘Why d’you think …’

‘I had a false alarm a couple of months ago,’ Lou cuts in, wondering what’s possessing her to divulge such personal information on a busy train with a stranger sitting here. Before now, she hadn’t even mentioned any of this to Hannah or Sadie. The champagne’s helping, of course, yet there’s something else too; something about Felix’s presence that’s drawing out how she really feels.

‘What happened, Lou?’ Hannah asks gently.

‘Well, I didn’t know what to think, not really. I was scared at first, but then, as the days went on, I thought … why not? I’m thirty-five and there’s no reason on earth why I shouldn’t have a baby.’ Without warning, Lou’s eyes fill with tears, and she quickly blinks them away.

Hannah places her hand over Lou’s. ‘So you were happy about it?’

‘Yeah, after the initial shock. It was strange, feeling secretly thrilled and excited when I’d never been broody before. Although I’m with kids all day, and half of them are usually screaming, I realised I really, really wanted to have the baby.’

A hush falls over the table. ‘Did you tell Spike how you felt?’ Sadie asks.

Lou nods. ‘He wouldn’t really discuss it. Kept shrugging it off, avoided talking about it because, you know, it wasn’t planned. Actually, he was a grumpy bastard the whole time.’

‘Why?’ Sadie asks. ‘Didn’t he want the baby?’

‘Obviously not.’ Lou grimaces. ‘But anyway, I was just really late and it turned out to be nothing, like Spike hoped it would be. And now,’ she continues briskly, ‘I look at you, Sadie, with two babies, managing to do it all as if it’s come so naturally and, to be honest’ – she pauses for another sip of champagne – ‘I honestly don’t know if I’m mum material, and even if I
am,
we probably couldn’t afford it.’

‘You really think it comes naturally?’ Sadie exclaims. ‘God, Lou, I wish it did. I’m terrified half the time, being in sole charge of Milo and Dylan even though I should know what I’m doing by now.’

‘But should you?’ Felix asks. ‘Who says you should?’

‘Oh, everyone! The coffee morning women with their baby slings and frozen bananas …’

‘You probably just need to get away for a bit,’ Hannah suggests. ‘You’ve had virtually no time off since they were born.’

‘What about Barney?’ Lou asks. ‘How’s he with the babies?’

‘As scared as I am,’ Sadie says. ‘I don’t know. We don’t really talk anymore – at least not properly. He says I’m always quoting from baby books …’

‘Barney’s lovely,’ Hannah tells Felix. ‘He’s this sweet, kind, capable man …’

‘And what’s yours like?’ Felix asks. ‘Your man, I mean?’ From his magic coolbox, he produces a box of truffles with an embossed gold lid and proceeds to hand them around.

‘Wow. Thanks.’ Hannah pops one into her mouth. ‘What’s Ryan like? Well, he’s a dad, he’s got two kids, we’re getting married in two weeks …’

‘You did that wincing thing!’ Sadie exclaims. ‘You know how you said I winced every time I said village? You did it just then when you said
married.
’

‘No I didn’t,’ Hannah protests.

‘You did! And I’m sorry, Lou,’ Sadie turns to her, ‘but you did it too, when you said
Spike
.’

The three girls are laughing now, tucking into Felix’s truffles and pronouncing them delicious. Lou glances first at Hannah, then Sadie, wondering how she’s managed to lose touch with the intricacies of their lives. They’d known everything about each other back in the Garnet Street days when every minuscule event had been discussed late into the night. Hannah has fallen silent now, and is licking a chocolatey smear from her finger, as if building up to share a secret of her own. Something’s preying on her mind, Lou can tell; something bigger and scarier than pre-wedding stress. ‘Are you okay about the wedding?’ she asks hesitantly.

Hannah nods. ‘Yes, of course I am.’

Lou shoots Felix a quick look, wishing now that it were just the three of them at this table, even though he’s turned to the window and is gazing out at flat fields. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ she says firmly.

Hannah turns to look at her, inhales deeply and sips from her cup. ‘It’s not the wedding, Lou. And it’s not me and Ryan I’m worried about. It’s Josh and Daisy.’

‘What about them?’ Lou asks, frowning.

Hannah shrugs. ‘They bloody hate me.’

‘They can’t!’ Lou gasps. ‘Why on earth would they hate you?’

‘Well, they make it pretty clear that they do.’

‘But you’ve been so nice to them,’ Sadie cuts in. ‘What kind of stuff do they do?’

Hannah smiles ruefully. ‘Oh, it’s not horrible pranks or anything. I haven’t had frogs put in my bed – yet. It’s a lot more subtle than that …’ She proceeds to fill them in on the shopping trip and the interrogation about not believing in God. ‘There’s another thing,’ she adds. ‘I found a Marlboro packet in the pocket of Josh’s jeans.’

‘Have you told Ryan?’ Lou asks.

‘No, not yet …’

‘You should!’ Sadie declares. ‘You should frame the packet and hang it up for him when he gets home.’

‘It’s tempting,’ Hannah murmurs.

‘Well, I’m sorry, Hannah,’ Felix scoffs, turning towards her, ‘but you don’t strike me as wicked stepmother material …’ She forces a smile, and Sadie and Lou are agog as she describes the stony silences, the hostile glares and Daisy showing her every damn page in the wedding album. She tells Felix about her studio, and how lucky she is to have it despite Daisy reminding her over and over that it used to be Petra’s music room. ‘I don’t even paint anymore,’ she confesses. ‘It’s just a pretend studio full of my stuff, with the ghost cello watching over me …’