It’s just that it’s never happened before. We do like to keep an eye out for anything unusual in the children’s routine.’
‘Oh well then,’ snapped Victoria. ‘I’ll be sure to let you know when we start our annual Satanic abuse rituals. They might be a few minutes late for assembly that week. Thank you so much for the call.’
Bloody private nurseries, she thought, as she slammed down the receiver.
It was still so early when Annie got back that morning that she made Charles and Victoria freshly squeezed orange juice while they were abluting. Then they all sat in silence munching their breakfast and drinking black coffee until talk was possible. Slowly, Charles and Annie stopped munching and looked at Victoria.
Victoria was staring thoughtfully at her grilled tomatoes.
‘What’s up?’ asked Charles, his mouth full.
Victoria sighed. ‘I can’t decide whether to eat them or not.’
‘Why?’
‘They’re full of fluid which will make me fat. But they’re also full of antioxidants which are anticarcinogenic.’
‘Do you want them?’
She looked at her husband as if he was mad. ‘What’s wanting them got to do with it?’ Really, Charles could be tiresome sometimes.
They fell into silence again.
Charles went back to his newspaper and then glanced up to find his wife looking at him like he was something unmentionable on the sole of her suede Chanel mules.
‘What have I done now?’
‘I never said a thing.’
‘Then why are you looking at me like I’m a buffoon?’
Victoria picked up a slice of dry toast and stood up.
‘I’m practising.’
She left the room.
Charles sat pondering on this for a moment before turning to Annie.
‘More coffee?’ he asked.
Annie shook her head. Then she nodded.
As Charles went to pour her another one, she shook her head.
‘Yes or no, old thing?’ asked Charles kindly.
Annie shrugged.
‘Don’t mind,’ she said quietly.
Charles poured her another cup, frowning in concern.
Annie stared at her coffee, as if it was some great perplexing puzzle.
She was, she knew, somewhat preoccupied of late. The truth of it was that she was terrified of leaving her own front door. Where would she see Jake first? In the High Street? In the hall? What if he kept away? What if she never saw him? She couldn’t decide which scared her most.
‘Ah dear, Annie. Marriage you know,’ Charles was saying, as he poured himself another coffee, assuming that Annie’s thoughtfulness had come on from witnessing his and Victoria’s regular morning tiffs. ‘Not as easy as it looks. Bloody hard work in fact.’
Annie nodded and stared at her cup. She didn’t hear another word until—
‘And of course, the cherry on the proverbial … um … cupcake, is that he’s not as fond of golf as the other chap. Has a handicap of 70. The man is no less than ideal.’
Confident that he’d amply proved his point, Charles sat back and started the Second Act of his breakfast.
‘Isn’t 70 rather poor for a handicap?’ asked Annie mildly.
‘Poor? It’s shocking! Positively shameful!’ replied Charles joyously. ‘The man will make an absolutely perfect addition to the family. Think he’ll be ideal for Sophie. David’s nice, but not the same quality, if you get my drift.’
Annie thought it would be wise not to ask David’s handicap.
‘By the way,’ continued Charles, ‘you do know that David’s invited us all down there tonight, don’t you? Liked the sound of my two sisters, I don’t doubt.’
Annie shook her head slowly.
‘Oh yes, you must join us. Don’t know that David realised you live with us when he made the invite, but can’t possibly have you staying up here all by yourself while we’ll be down there gassing. It’s not formal, so shouldn’t see why they’d mind an extra one. It’ll be great fun watching two top ‘troubleshooters’ falling over each with my kid sisters, eh?’
Annie moved her facial muscles into a faint smile. ‘Yes, great
‘Oh well then,’ snapped Victoria. ‘I’ll be sure to let you know when we start our annual Satanic abuse rituals. They might be a few minutes late for assembly that week. Thank you so much for the call.’
Bloody private nurseries, she thought, as she slammed down the receiver.
It was still so early when Annie got back that morning that she made Charles and Victoria freshly squeezed orange juice while they were abluting. Then they all sat in silence munching their breakfast and drinking black coffee until talk was possible. Slowly, Charles and Annie stopped munching and looked at Victoria.
Victoria was staring thoughtfully at her grilled tomatoes.
‘What’s up?’ asked Charles, his mouth full.
Victoria sighed. ‘I can’t decide whether to eat them or not.’
‘Why?’
‘They’re full of fluid which will make me fat. But they’re also full of antioxidants which are anticarcinogenic.’
‘Do you want them?’
She looked at her husband as if he was mad. ‘What’s wanting them got to do with it?’ Really, Charles could be tiresome sometimes.
They fell into silence again.
Charles went back to his newspaper and then glanced up to find his wife looking at him like he was something unmentionable on the sole of her suede Chanel mules.
‘What have I done now?’
‘I never said a thing.’
‘Then why are you looking at me like I’m a buffoon?’
Victoria picked up a slice of dry toast and stood up.
‘I’m practising.’
She left the room.
Charles sat pondering on this for a moment before turning to Annie.
‘More coffee?’ he asked.
Annie shook her head. Then she nodded.
As Charles went to pour her another one, she shook her head.
‘Yes or no, old thing?’ asked Charles kindly.
Annie shrugged.
‘Don’t mind,’ she said quietly.
Charles poured her another cup, frowning in concern.
Annie stared at her coffee, as if it was some great perplexing puzzle.
She was, she knew, somewhat preoccupied of late. The truth of it was that she was terrified of leaving her own front door. Where would she see Jake first? In the High Street? In the hall? What if he kept away? What if she never saw him? She couldn’t decide which scared her most.
‘Ah dear, Annie. Marriage you know,’ Charles was saying, as he poured himself another coffee, assuming that Annie’s thoughtfulness had come on from witnessing his and Victoria’s regular morning tiffs. ‘Not as easy as it looks. Bloody hard work in fact.’
Annie nodded and stared at her cup. She didn’t hear another word until—
‘And of course, the cherry on the proverbial … um … cupcake, is that he’s not as fond of golf as the other chap. Has a handicap of 70. The man is no less than ideal.’
Confident that he’d amply proved his point, Charles sat back and started the Second Act of his breakfast.
‘Isn’t 70 rather poor for a handicap?’ asked Annie mildly.
‘Poor? It’s shocking! Positively shameful!’ replied Charles joyously. ‘The man will make an absolutely perfect addition to the family. Think he’ll be ideal for Sophie. David’s nice, but not the same quality, if you get my drift.’
Annie thought it would be wise not to ask David’s handicap.
‘By the way,’ continued Charles, ‘you do know that David’s invited us all down there tonight, don’t you? Liked the sound of my two sisters, I don’t doubt.’
Annie shook her head slowly.
‘Oh yes, you must join us. Don’t know that David realised you live with us when he made the invite, but can’t possibly have you staying up here all by yourself while we’ll be down there gassing. It’s not formal, so shouldn’t see why they’d mind an extra one. It’ll be great fun watching two top ‘troubleshooters’ falling over each with my kid sisters, eh?’
Annie moved her facial muscles into a faint smile. ‘Yes, great
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