or
anything like it,' she added hastily. 'But enough to make us feel
that if we ever were going to work for ourselves it had to be now
or never. But what about you, Laura? Did you ever make use of
your diploma?' Laura hesitated. 'To a certain extent. I help out
at Caswells when anything special is required in the way of food,
but that's all.' Bethany was silent for a moment, her frank blue
eyes studying her friend. She said, 'It's probably none of my
business, but rumour had it that you'd got married.' Laura bit
her lip. ' I did.' She forced a smile. 'It—it didn't work out,
and we're now divorced.' 'Oh,' Bethany said helplessly. 'Laura,
I'm really sorry. I don't know what to say.' Laura shrugged
slightly. 'That's all right. I'm over it now.' Am I? Oh God, am
I? 'Did I ever meet him?' Bethany persisted, and Laura shook her
head. 'He was an artist, then. His name's Jason Wingard,' she
added flatly. 'Wingard?' Bethany frowned. 'Odd—that name rings
a bell.' ' I expect it does,' Laura said drily. 'Look at last
night's cheques, and you'll find it among them.' 'He was in here
last night?' Bethany's brows vanished almost into her hair. Laura
nodded. 'It was quite a family party.'
'Then it was one of those civilised divorces?' Laura wanted to
scream, 'No—it tore me to pieces, and still does,' but instead
she said lightly, T suppose you could say that.' She changed the
subject abruptly. 'What happened to Julie? Do you ever see her
these days?' 'The last I heard of her, she'd gone abroad.'
Bethany reached for the coffee pot, and refilled the cups. While
she was adding cream. Laura looked idly down into the street.
Alan still hadn't moved his car, she noticed, and there was no
sign of him anywhere. If he wasn't careful, it might be towed
away. Burngate itself was relatively quiet for the time of day,
with little traffic and few pedestrians. A boy, his hair dyed
like a cockatoo's and aggressively lacquered, strode along the
pavement, attracting scandalised looks from more conventional
shoppers, and Laura smiled to herself as he sidestepped to let a
girl with a pushchair walk past him to the window of the estate
agent's opposite. Suddenly she could feel the blood drumming in
her head and felt her chest tightening almost unbearably.
'Laura.' Bethany jumped up. 'My God, love, what is -it? You're
ill. Put your head down—that's it. Now, try and breathe deeply,
but don't force it.' Laura obeyed, aware that the room was
swimming nauseatingly round her. Within seconds Mike had appeared
with a glass of water, summoned by Bethany's urgent call. Between
them, they got Laura to lie down on the sofa. She drank some of
the water, and gradually the room stopped revolving. She said at
last, 'I'm sorry. I feel a complete fool. It must be lack of
sleep. The storm kept me awake last night and . . . ' Mike had
discreetly vanished again. Bethany took her hand gently. 'You're
not a fool, love, and neither am I. You looked as if you'd seen a
ghost just then. What is it?' Laura gave her a wan smile. 'No
ghost very much flesh and blood. At least, I think so. I could
have made a mistake.' 'Then who is it, for heaven's sake?'
Bethany dragged forward a chair and sat down. Laura was silent
for a long moment. She said, ' I suppose the simplest way to say
it is my husband's mistress and one of his children.' There was a
charged silence, then Bethany said, 'You're joking surely ' then
caught herself quickly, 'No, it isn't a joke. You don't make
jokes about things like that. But Laura, my God, you said one of
his children. You mean he has more than one? 'One more that I
know about,' Laura said wearily. 'An older boy. I suppose he'll
be at school now.' There was another long pause, then Bethany
said gently, 'You don't have to say any more if you don't want
to, but if it would help to talk about it, then I'm more than
ready to listen.' 'It might help at that.' Laura spoke half
anything like it,' she added hastily. 'But enough to make us feel
that if we ever were going to work for ourselves it had to be now
or never. But what about you, Laura? Did you ever make use of
your diploma?' Laura hesitated. 'To a certain extent. I help out
at Caswells when anything special is required in the way of food,
but that's all.' Bethany was silent for a moment, her frank blue
eyes studying her friend. She said, 'It's probably none of my
business, but rumour had it that you'd got married.' Laura bit
her lip. ' I did.' She forced a smile. 'It—it didn't work out,
and we're now divorced.' 'Oh,' Bethany said helplessly. 'Laura,
I'm really sorry. I don't know what to say.' Laura shrugged
slightly. 'That's all right. I'm over it now.' Am I? Oh God, am
I? 'Did I ever meet him?' Bethany persisted, and Laura shook her
head. 'He was an artist, then. His name's Jason Wingard,' she
added flatly. 'Wingard?' Bethany frowned. 'Odd—that name rings
a bell.' ' I expect it does,' Laura said drily. 'Look at last
night's cheques, and you'll find it among them.' 'He was in here
last night?' Bethany's brows vanished almost into her hair. Laura
nodded. 'It was quite a family party.'
'Then it was one of those civilised divorces?' Laura wanted to
scream, 'No—it tore me to pieces, and still does,' but instead
she said lightly, T suppose you could say that.' She changed the
subject abruptly. 'What happened to Julie? Do you ever see her
these days?' 'The last I heard of her, she'd gone abroad.'
Bethany reached for the coffee pot, and refilled the cups. While
she was adding cream. Laura looked idly down into the street.
Alan still hadn't moved his car, she noticed, and there was no
sign of him anywhere. If he wasn't careful, it might be towed
away. Burngate itself was relatively quiet for the time of day,
with little traffic and few pedestrians. A boy, his hair dyed
like a cockatoo's and aggressively lacquered, strode along the
pavement, attracting scandalised looks from more conventional
shoppers, and Laura smiled to herself as he sidestepped to let a
girl with a pushchair walk past him to the window of the estate
agent's opposite. Suddenly she could feel the blood drumming in
her head and felt her chest tightening almost unbearably.
'Laura.' Bethany jumped up. 'My God, love, what is -it? You're
ill. Put your head down—that's it. Now, try and breathe deeply,
but don't force it.' Laura obeyed, aware that the room was
swimming nauseatingly round her. Within seconds Mike had appeared
with a glass of water, summoned by Bethany's urgent call. Between
them, they got Laura to lie down on the sofa. She drank some of
the water, and gradually the room stopped revolving. She said at
last, 'I'm sorry. I feel a complete fool. It must be lack of
sleep. The storm kept me awake last night and . . . ' Mike had
discreetly vanished again. Bethany took her hand gently. 'You're
not a fool, love, and neither am I. You looked as if you'd seen a
ghost just then. What is it?' Laura gave her a wan smile. 'No
ghost very much flesh and blood. At least, I think so. I could
have made a mistake.' 'Then who is it, for heaven's sake?'
Bethany dragged forward a chair and sat down. Laura was silent
for a long moment. She said, ' I suppose the simplest way to say
it is my husband's mistress and one of his children.' There was a
charged silence, then Bethany said, 'You're joking surely ' then
caught herself quickly, 'No, it isn't a joke. You don't make
jokes about things like that. But Laura, my God, you said one of
his children. You mean he has more than one? 'One more that I
know about,' Laura said wearily. 'An older boy. I suppose he'll
be at school now.' There was another long pause, then Bethany
said gently, 'You don't have to say any more if you don't want
to, but if it would help to talk about it, then I'm more than
ready to listen.' 'It might help at that.' Laura spoke half
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