The Truth Club (57 page)

Then he adds, ‘I got a call from her about a year ago. She’s married again and living in New Mexico.’

‘Who?’

‘The stick-insect woman. And her ex-husband now talks to a
dog – which is a step up the communication ladder, I suppose. He
sometimes phones her and says he misses her, and she tells him to
take the dog for a walk. It seems to be working.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, people stop him and say, “What a lovely dog! What breed is it?” and he tells them it’s some exotic kind of spaniel.
He’s even got quite pally with a woman he met in the park. Life
can be so bloody difficult sometimes that some people just end up
feeling more comfortable with animals than with people.’ He
smiles wryly. ‘There’s been some fascinating research about the
number of women who feel, deep down, that their closest significant relationship is with their cat.’

I remember the sudden adoration I felt for Blossom when I
went riding. She seemed to care about me unconditionally. And,
of course, she didn’t buck me off. I was immensely grateful to her.
‘By the way, I read your column – the latest one. I really liked it.’

It takes me a moment to register what he has said. I’m still t
hinking of Blossom and her big, understanding eyes, the lovely
smell of her shiny hair. ‘I’m glad you liked it,’ I say. ‘But Greta
thinks it’s crap.’

‘Good old Greta. She’s delightfully mercenary.’

‘Fred has been driving her crazy. He’s been howling and scratching at the door and trying to bury her jewellery.’

‘Oh, poor Fred.’ Nathaniel’s face grows solemn. Suddenly it
feels like Nathaniel and I are in our own little world at this table,
but we’re not. He’s being kind and thoughtful and sweet, and I
wish he’d stop – because then I wouldn’t want to kiss him.
I
even love his stupid car. It seems right that it isn’t sleek and shiny
like everyone else’s. It seems like
our
car, somehow – the kind of
car people like us should have.

‘Greta told me about you and Fabrice flying off together.’ I decide just to say it.

‘Oh, did she?’

‘Yes. Did you have a nice time?’

‘Yes, thank you. Very nice.’

I wait for him to say more, but he looks tight-lipped and secretive.
‘So you really want to fly somewhere today, do you?’ he enquires suddenly.

‘I don’t know any more.’ I sigh. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it
isn’t such a good idea.’

‘We should go somewhere closer.’

‘What?’

‘Now that I come to think of it, you really do need to get away,
Sally. Let’s just do it.’

‘Do what?’ I frown.

Nathaniel’s eyes have brightened. He suddenly looks very enthusiastic. ‘Let’s go to London.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes!’

‘I don’t want to go to London.’

‘You will when we get there.’

I hear my name called. Suddenly I don’t want to go anywhere.
I just want to go home
.

‘You have to come with me. It’s really important. There’s someone I want you to meet.’

I gawp at him. Why on earth is he saying this now? Why London, of all places?

‘Come on, Sally. Let’s go to that standby desk of yours,’
Nathaniel says. Then he grabs my arm and pulls me from my seat.

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

Nathaniel and I are
walking down a swanky street in Chelsea.
There is an autumnal chill to the late afternoon. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t believe I let him talk me into this.

I went to the standby desk when my name was called, and the
woman said that there wasn’t a seat on the three o’clock flight
to San Francisco after all. Then Nathaniel said, ‘What about London?’ and she checked her computer and said that two seats
were available, but we’d have to rush to get on the flight.
Nathaniel handed her a credit card, and she issued our tickets without so much as a murmur of surprise.

After that I found myself running after him towards the
boarding gate, the way you run when you are gripped with a real
sense of urgency about your intended destination. Somehow the
running inspired this feeling in me. I really didn’t want to miss the
flight, even though I had no idea why I was getting on it.
I was also getting extremely curious. Who on earth did Nathaniel want
me to meet in London, and why? I began to suspect he’d just said
it to make me go along with this crazy adventure. And, even
though I was tired, I began to feel I needed an adventure. I needed
this day to be different. After all, I’d spent a good part of it thinking I’d be in California in time for lunch. Going home to a bath would, in truth, have been a bit of an anticlimax.

So now I’m trying to keep up with Nathaniel and wondering how much the tickets cost. He does, after all, claim to be pretty short of money. I am also thinking that I’m hungry, and that I should phone April to tell her she doesn’t have to get her spare
bed ready. And I’m itching to ask Nathaniel more about Fabrice
and what they got up to together. But for some reason I stay
completely silent. I am probably in shock because I don’t do this kind of thing. April gave me a reason to go to San Francisco; but
I have no reason to be here on this spacious, austere street with its rich, white, colonnaded houses.

Suddenly I long for somewhere warmer – somewhere Latin and
passionate, like Rio. London doesn’t seem to be the right
destination for a heedless, almost frantic journey. It looks far too
sensible and self-contained in the crisp late-afternoon sunlight.
There should be music and the scent of blossoms, bright dark eyes
and tanned skin and languid street-side cafés. No wonder DeeDee
was lured by Rio’s embrace, its beckoning. A place like that would understand her need for it.

Since Nathaniel and I seem to have run out of conversation, I
find myself glancing into windows and wishing it were later in the evening. Snooping is so much easier when it’s almost dark and the
lights are on in people’s flats and houses. I like glimpsing the
fancy lamps and paintings and furniture; a paprika-coloured wall
or an antique chaise longue, a round table covered in silver-
framed family photos. I enjoy watching lovers embracing as they
return home from work, or some glamorous basement-flat
bachelor preparing a stir-fry at a marble table.

‘Where are we going?’ I decide it’s high time I asked again. Nathaniel has just ignored my question on previous occasions.

He glances down at me. One of the many annoying things about the opposite sex is that they are so often taller.

‘Who is this person you want me to meet?’ I persist. ‘Or did you just make that up?’

‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

I stop in my tracks and glare at him rebelliously. ‘This is ridiculous. You should tell me now.’

‘We’re almost there.’

‘Where,
for God’s sake?’

Nathaniel takes out the A-to-Z guide to London that he’s bought and squints at the dense thicket of information. It looks like he’s lost. We’ll probably be traipsing around these swanky streets until it’s time to go back to the airport.

The potent lure of his company has dramatically faded. He’s not being his usual charming, witty self at all; in fact, he almost looks worried. I suspect he has realised that this was an idiotic
idea and that he will soon have to introduce me to someone I have
no particular wish to meet. I’m even beginning to wonder if this
‘someone’ exists.

‘This is outrageous, Nathaniel,’ I declare. I am extremely pissed
off with him. ‘Why are you being so mysterious? I haven’t even
had a proper lunch.’ I realise there isn’t really any connection between him being secretive and lunch, but I don’t care. They only gave us a cup of tea on the flight, and there wasn’t even a biscuit with it.

He just walks on, so I tug at his arm and say, ‘I want to eat
something. I want to go into that crêperie over there.’ I point at a
cheerful establishment with red and white tablecloths.

He turns away from me and gets out his mobile phone. He
starts to talk, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. He did this at the
airport too, before we got on the flight. Who on earth is he
calling? Why won’t he tell me? Maybe this ‘friend’ is yet another
of his female admirers…

I start to fumble in my bag for my mobile. I know people in
London too; I could phone one of them. We might even go out for
a meal together. Nathaniel clearly isn’t enjoying my company. I
never thought he would be this moody. I don’t want to traipse after him any more. He is really pissing me off.

‘You go on, Nathaniel,’ I say when his call is finished. ‘Give me
my ticket and we can meet up at the airport.’

He looks at me quizzically.

‘No, really, you go on,’ I insist. My bag is doing its trick of turning into a cavernous lagoon full of miscellaneous objects. I may need to get a torch to find my phone.

Nathaniel looks at his watch; then he takes my arm and yanks
me towards a side-street.

‘Let me go!’ I protest. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

‘Goodbye, Sally.’ He leans forward and gives me a light peck
on the cheek. Then he shoves something into my hand and disappears.

I stare into the crowd. I can’t believe it. He has, basically,
dumped me. He hasn’t even given me my plane ticket. I knew he
was in a bad mood, but I never dreamed he’d be this horrible. I
just stand there, trying to blink back the tears, until I notice I am
holding a piece of paper and suddenly remember him shoving it into my hand before he disappeared.

It seems to have an address on it. I check the name of the street
I’m on; it’s the same as the one on the paper. I am to go to number
70. Why on earth couldn’t he have just shown me the place himself? Why all this subterfuge? It’s absolutely ridiculous.

I pass the newsagent’s and the dingy laundrette and the mobile-
phone shop, but I can’t seem to find number 70. If this is
Nathaniel’s idea of a joke, he’ll get some sharp kicks on the shins.
What I need is a cup of tea and a large sofa and a quiet weep, but
of course this isn’t the kind of place that would offer such
comfort.

I quicken my step, but then something makes me linger outside
a shop that doesn’t seem to fit in with all the rest. It’s like an
exotic bird in an aviary of pigeons. The walls and the door are a
dramatic lapis-lazuli blue flecked with gold. In the window are a
large orange hat, some very comfortable-looking red Chinese
slippers, a stack of turquoise bowls, a large plate of scones and a
big yellow teapot. It’s number 70. Maybe Nathaniel was just giving me directions to the nearest café because he knew I was hungry.