Flying Under Bridges (18 page)

‘Lucky
bugger,’ Adam whispered to his wife.

‘Who?’
asked Eve, although she knew full well.

‘William,
of course.’

Lucky
bugger, indeed. It was a boy’s idea of luck. How lucky to have a wife other men
covet. Pe Pe wandered about fulfilling her part brilliantly. She was there for
the other men to appreciate. For them to envy William having her at his
disposal. Eve thought about her women’s study class and had a very unfeminist
thought. She longed sharply to be a sex object for just one evening. She envied
Pe Pe that night. They could not have been two more different women. Pe Pe was
a female sex object and Eve believed she was a female most men would object to
having sex with. She wondered what Adam thought of having her on his arm. Eve
was much younger than him and that used to help. He probably had never expected
her to get old too.

The
party was a gathering of everyone who was anyone from the town. Neat little
name tags had been filled out in advance. Pe Pe’s read
Mrs William Cameron
and
Eve’s read
Mrs Adam Marshall.
Once more she had a sense of disappearing.
It was new. She had never minded before but now Eve cared terribly. She
desperately wanted to be someone she remembered from twenty years ago.

The
house was fabulous. Everything was straight from a centre spread of
House
& Garden.
If one of those ghastly television make-over teams laid a
finger on the place you would kill them. The hall was enormous, with a great
mountainous staircase up to a galleried landing. A frozen acrylic banister had
been twisted and turned up the oak stairs like a liquid waterfall running over
a deep, blue carpet. Adam and Eve received their name tags from some ‘staff’
and moved to shimmer into the shag-pile room. William had got a photographer to
‘snap’ everyone as they arrived. Of course, Eve tripped. She did not glide in
on Adam’s arm but landed head first in six inches of double Worcester. Adam did
try to grab her as she fell but he was also protecting his privates and it was
left to Pe Pe to deal beautifully with the
faux pas.

‘High
heels!’ She laughed one of those crystals laughs that women have to practise to
perfect. ‘Such a monstrous invention. They bring you up to a man’s height and
then make sure you can’t keep up with him.’ She and Adam roared at her quip and
they moved into the room while Eve returned to the vertical. She looked around
the crowded room. It was a husbands- and wivesfest. Everyone had come in a
couple. There were no spinsters, no unbought merchandise. The men were there to
network and the wives were there to look charming, be supportive. They were
awash in the cult of coupledom, where to be single was to be one of the
unchosen ones. The chosen few had to band together. Admit nothing. Smile. The
wife who would dare to confess that she was unhappy was throwing in the towel.
It was not done. The women all worked at being a wife, year after year. It was
an investment no woman would dare to lose by admitting defeat. If the chosen
ones were defeated, the unchosen would smell retreat and circle around.

Eve
knew what Adam wanted. He wanted her to be a politician’s wife, an insurance
salesman’s wife — look good but not too good, dress well but not expensively, speak
when spoken to, come when called and laugh at his jokes. Never be caught
sneering/frowning/yawning/slouching/looking anything but perfectly groomed. He
would never have said so but Eve knew it all the same.

Why
didn’t she leave there and then? Head off for pastures new? Eve could no more
admit to that room that she was unhappy than sculpt herself like Pe Pe. The
only thing she had ever laboured at was being a wife and mother. If Eve didn’t
have that then there was nothing left. There was a commotion in the hall. Lots
of high-pitched squeaking blended with low-pitched men taking coats and
offering drinks. Inge had arrived.

Pe Pe
was almost overcome with excitement. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as she
led Inge, her prize guest, into the large sitting room.

‘I
expect you’ll want to check your hair,’ she said very loudly, although Inge’s
hair looked perfect. ‘May I show you the way?’ Pe Pe smiled graciously at her
guests as Inge obediently followed in her hostess’s wake. ‘We’ve just had the
house feng shuid. That’s why there’s no mirror in the hall.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You
know, feng shuid — it’s Chinese. A lovely little man comes and rebalances the
energy in your house. You can’t have a mirror in the hall. It literally bounces
good fortune out of the home. He said—’

Inge
never heard what the wise Oriental had to say. She spied Eve and rushed over
with open arms. ‘Hello, Camie.’

They
hugged while Pe Pe stood watching, her mouth the only part of her face still
smiling.

‘Do you
want a drink?’ asked Eve.

Inge
nodded her head at Pe Pe and whispered, ‘I’d love one but apparently I have to
check my hair.’

‘I’ll
come with you.’

Eve and
Inge lined up beside Pe Pe, who once again led the way.

‘You
look stunning, Pe Pe,’ Eve said, because it was true.

‘Well,
needs must. I know he’s your brother but I don’t want to give Willie an excuse
to run off with anyone else. Third wife syndrome!’ She eyed the other women in
the room as they departed. Each one a potential thief. Each spinster of this
parish a dangerous piece of unbought merchandise.

‘Poor
Martha,’ Pe Pe commented under her breath. ‘Never married, you know. It’s so
sad because…’ There was a horrible pause as Pe Pe realised that Inge had
never married. Up close and off the television she suddenly saw her in a
slightly different light. Perhaps inviting her had not been such a wonderful
idea. She was really very attractive. Inge excused herself into the loo.

In the
bathroom mirror the energy bounced out of Eve. Pe Pe and she looked in together
while Pe Pe fixed something unnecessarily. Eve looked at this endlessly smiling
woman. This woman who slept with her brother.

‘Pe Pe,
are you happy?’

‘Eve, I
am happy because I intend to be. Happiness is not accidental. It is
purposeful. It is something you have to create all day long.’

‘How?’

Pe Pe
applied a new layer of lip gloss as she spoke. ‘Every morning I tell myself a
story for three or four minutes about the kind of day I intend to have. I
promise myself a good day. I focus on beauty and joy. The story keeps me on
track as the day unfolds. You have to let the negative stuff go. Each day I
have a new opportunity to be happy. Just about everyone can be happy, Eve.’ She
looked at Eve as if she half thought her sister-in-law disproved the theory. ‘Intending
to be happy is the first step. Take the party tonight. Go out there and keep
asking what joy can I find in this situation? Maximise all experience.’ She
snapped the lid on to her lipstick as Inge emerged from her retreat. ‘And
smile.’

A
marquee had been set up in the garden and there was a band for dancing. Women
performing that neat sleight of hand where they glide backwards, controlling
every muscle and yet making it look as though the man is shoving them
effortlessly round the floor. Eve knew she couldn’t do it. It was too much like
ice-skating.

Inge
was swept away on a tide of enthusiasm. Everyone wanted to meet her. Everyone
wanted to talk to her.

Eve
tried conversation with several people during the evening. ‘It’s my mother, you
see. I have to look after her. She’s in hospital but she’ll be out soon,’ she
said to one half-interested woman. ‘When she’s better I’m thinking of going
into business with—’

‘Oh,
you should put her in a home. That’s what we did with mine. It’s a pity because
she used to be such fun. Loved a flutter on the horses. Used to bet on
anything. Actually it was one Christmas we realised it had got out of hand and
she was on her way out. She put gambling chips in the pudding instead of sixpences
and they didn’t take well to all that boiling.’

The
surprise of the evening was that Theresa Baker was there with her partner
Brian. They seemed the wrong sort of people for Willie and Pe Pe but it
appeared Brian was due to make some murals for the shopping precinct. He and
Theresa were allowed to be a bit odd as he was an artist.

Pe Pe
had caterers. She also had a tailor-made Poggenpohl kitchen, but as far as Eve
knew she had never used it. She beamed at everyone. She looked fabulous. Like
Venus de Milo before that unfortunate arm thing. The whole town appeared to
have turned up. John Antrobus was there. And Eve’s family, of course. Her
daughter Shirley and her sister Martha, who was holding court in a corner. Eve
couldn’t think what to say to her. She was terrified that she’d ask whether she’d
used the speculum.

Everywhere
waiters whispered and glided about with things on silver plates. All the dishes
were decorated in a tennis theme, while small children dressed in Wimbledon
whites rushed around selling raffle tickets. Eve could see Adam trying to get
William to one side but he kept getting cornered by John. They were having some
very intense discussion.

‘It’s
sushi,’ beamed Pe Pe, over a plate of wet fish. ‘It’s so good for you. I’m
thinking of writing a book about it.’

‘What
are you going to call it?’ snarled Martha. ‘If you knew sushi like I know
sushi?’ Pe Pe’s beam never faltered. She was a dental dream.

‘I
sense anger in you, Martha, and I can help you with that.’

Eve
sensed anger in Martha too and she couldn’t help her with that, so she went to
find somewhere to sit down. Inge was deep in conversation with the president of
the tennis club.

‘We are
so grateful to you, Miss Holbrook,’ he gushed. ‘This is going to make all the
difference to the children.’

Inge
smiled. ‘Well, the more under-privileged kids we can get into sport, the
better.’

The man’s
bonhomie
faltered. ‘Under-privileged?’

Inge
nodded. ‘The money from tonight. To get kids into tennis.

The
president laughed politely. ‘Oh, that. No, it’s for our first team to go to
Paris and play against a lovely French team at a private lycée. To be honest
there’s not a parent in the club who couldn’t afford the trip but we thought it
would be good for club morale to have a fund-raiser.’

After
about an hour and a half, William called for everyone’s attention.

‘Ladies
and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, we shall now be drawing the raffle. Into
the conservatory, please, everyone.’

The
conservatory was new and until that moment had been kept firmly shut. Pe Pe
hustled the tennis children into a short guard of honour, while William opened
the large double doors to the room. He marched in, clapped his hands and lights
came on in a vast glass palace just off the sitting room. It was stunning. He
clapped his hands again and classical music began playing softly.

‘The
latest technology.’ He clapped his hands again and the lights went off until he
clapped them on once more. In the centre of the room was a large table covered
with a white silk cloth. Pe Pe ushered everyone into the room while holding
back Inge as guest of honour. Inge was grateful. The woman speaking to her was
the one from the café. She had not left Inge alone for an hour.

‘The
people at the garage knew where the house was, so I did call round to give you
details about the ball but there was only your housekeeper in,’ said the woman.

Inge
looked confused. ‘I don’t have a housekeeper.’

The
woman smiled, thinking perhaps Inge was too busy to remember. ‘Yes you do. I
met her. Coloured woman. Very pleasant.’

That’s
not my housekeeper.’

‘Are
you sure?’

‘Thank
you all for coming,’ began William.

‘You
won’t forget about the ball?’ the woman called to Inge, as she was forcibly
separated from fame by Pe Pe. ‘It will be so fabulous.’

The
room hushed to listen to William. ‘Welcome to what can only be described as a
fabulous charity evening. We are here so that the kids of Edenford can play
tennis… in France, and who better as our guest of honour than that tennis
champion—’

‘Athletics,’
said Eve, quite loudly.

‘—and
great sports commentator, now resident here in Edenford…’

This
caused a general murmur with at least three people saying, ‘Oh yes, her parent’s
house, you know, on Maple Lane.’

‘…
Inge Holbrook.’

As a
pièce de résistance, the two lines of children whipped out tennis rackets from
behind their backs and held them up to form an arch for Inge to walk under. It
caused a wave of applause and Inge to have a brief moment where she thought she’d
lost an eye. As soon as the clapping started the room technology kicked in. All
the lights went on and off and Mozart had a stuttering fit. It was perhaps not
as smooth as Pe Pe had intended. Inge bent low and emerged in the room with the
walk of a hunchback. William stepped forward with a large crystal bowl of
raffle tickets.

‘Now
then, before anyone asks me what’s under the white silk, it’s the model for the
new Edenford Shopping Mall — as brought to you by Cameron Builders — but I’ve
covered it up because we are not here to talk business. We are here for
charity.’ More applause, more stuttering music, more lights flashing on and
off. ‘Thanks to the many generous people who have had their arms twisted by my
magnificent wife …’ William pretended to rub his own arm. ‘Ow!’ he said, and
everyone laughed…. we have some very exciting prizes. First prize — two
tickets to the mixed-doubles semi-finals at this year’s Wimbledon championships,
kindly donated by Cameron Builders… Inge, the winner, please.’