The Art of Unpacking Your Life (24 page)

There were white towelling robes hanging from a dark hat stand at one end; three pairs of slippers were lined up parallel with the foot of the bed. At the front of the deck were a wooden table and chairs and a pile of large ochre-coloured floor cushions.

‘Serious glamping, Gus,' Sara exclaimed.

‘I knew you'd love it.'

They smiled at each other.

Lizzie, who had already kicked off her cream Converse, was round the back, running down the narrow decked walkway. ‘Do you see what I think I see?' She called out.

Connie and Sara followed her. The path was lined with tiny black uplighters, and led to a steel shower with a vast head, stylish in any London bathroom. A white china loo was plumbed in beside it. The white basin was carved into a polished rock,
which had been sculpted into a shelf for bath products, towels and a hand mirror. As Lizzie flushed the loo and Sara energetically ran the water in the basin to confirm it was plumbed in, Connie wandered back towards the deck. She sunk back on to the pillows and looked up at the sky. It was deepening in colour in preparation for sunset. It was going to be an extraordinary view of what her grandfather described as the Green Kalahari. This area in the south got more rain than the central Kalahari. Thousands of kilometres of flat dunes unfurling into the distance.

At the front of the deck, Gus was unloading the khaki canvas holdall. One was piled high with cheese and bread, the other one had an array of miniature desserts: chocolate mousse, tiramisu, panna cotta, lemon mousse, blueberry cheesecake.

Gus glanced over to her. ‘Sara thought you were done with big meals. Wouldn't want a chef here fussing away with a three-course meal, eh? He laughed.

‘Girls love to snack, Gus.'

‘Sara's lovely, you know,' Connie insisted lightly. ‘A good and loyal friend.'

Gus murmured, ‘Soft as Kalahari honey underneath all that carbon fibre.'

Connie unlaced her safari boots and released her feet.

‘Gus, glad to see you followed instructions,' Sara breezed up, bending over the holdall to search for a bottle opener.

‘Sara, I'll do it,' Gus insisted, crouching on the other side of the bag.

She stood up and over him. ‘Gus, we can't have a qualified zoologist acting barman to three over-privileged, maturing London ladies.'

‘Speak for yourself.' Lizzie landed heavily on the cushion beside Connie, who moved up to make room for her.

‘We are going one way, Lizzie dear. Ageing isn't personal.'

‘How can you say that when I haven't even got a boyfriend? Nor have you for that matter.' Lizzie looked at her slyly.

Sara paused. The subject of men had a habit of making Sara pause, before she doubled her defences. ‘Christ, Lizzie, today of all days, give it a break. Don't you ever stop thinking about men? They are either A-list fuckers, I'm sorry to say, like our dear friend's erstwhile husband. Or domestic pets you need to put on a lead to take outside.'

Connie automatically leaned forward. ‘She doesn't mean it, Gus.'

Sara gave him an impatient wave of the corkscrew. ‘Gus, I'm obviously not talking about you.'

‘Great. What am I, the safari eunuch?'

‘That was funny. Very funny, actually.' Sara gave him a curious look. ‘Gus, women of the Empire open their own bottles.'

Connie smiled. ‘I would quickly escape, before you throw the corkscrew at her.'

Sara was squeezing the bottle wedged between her thighs, as she grunted to no avail. ‘Gus, this corkscrew is useless.'

‘Zoologists don't pack the kit, Sara,' Gus chipped in.

Sara laughed. ‘Okay. Two–one to you, Gus.'

‘Which point did you win?' He bounced back.

Sara's mouth softened. He seemed to have won her over somehow.

Gus coughed. ‘If you are nervous, eh, your guide can sleep in the game vehicle round the back.' He looked embarrassed, doubtless preparing for Sara's visceral wit. ‘Or I can come back at dawn with breakfast.'

‘Are you planning to gawp at us in our underwear, Gus? I didn't put you down as a peeper.'

Sara spoke automatically and Connie sensed that she instantly regretted it. Gus blushed hard.

‘Sorry, Gus, that was childish. Forgive me.'

‘Ignore her, Gus, she has no manners,' insisted Lizzie. ‘She's going to die a lonely lesbian in an old people's home in Florida.'

Gus started to walk away without saying goodbye. Connie moved after him. ‘Gus, I apologise on Sara's behalf.'

He didn't say anything.

‘Do you know, I've had a hell of a day and I would be reassured if you were here overnight, in case.'

‘Sure, Connie.'

‘Why don't you join us?'

He shook his head. ‘I'll come back later.'

Connie went back to the others.

‘Why do you give him such a hard time? He is our guide, you should treat him with respect.' Lizzie prodded Sara, before pronouncing, ‘You fancy him.'

Connie winced.

‘Lizzie, don't be preposterous. Christ, I'm not some pubescent schoolgirl,' Sara said angrily. ‘I'd rather shag a buffalo.'

‘I don't believe you,' Lizzie pronounced as she spooned another mound of chocolate mousse. ‘Don't look at me like that, Connie, I'm on holiday and the food is delicious.'

‘Podgy people eat puddings,' Connie said without thinking.

Sara laughed loudly. ‘Don't tell me, Connie, you've got that saying on a fridge magnet?'

‘You can't say things like that, Connie,' said Lizzie, ‘It's fatist. God you would get eaten alive at Channel 4.'

The snap of their banter had brought Connie briefly back, only she couldn't help sliding away from them again. This time to think about what was going to happen. Sally having Julian's baby. His baby; his blood. A headache started to tug at her temples.

Sara paused. ‘Oh Connie. I'm not good at finding the right words to say.' She squeezed between Connie and Lizzie, ‘But I'm so sorry. You don't deserve the little shit.'

Connie looked at the horizon. It was achingly sparse.

‘Have you ever had an affair?' Sara asked.

Connie gave a closed smile. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘Years ago, I saw you in the bar at the Athenaeum with a hot-looking civil barrister.'

‘I saw you,' she half-smiled.

‘Connie, I am shocked,' Lizzie interjected. ‘Did you have an affair?'

Connie had forgotten about that night. ‘For once, I wanted to be the one to walk away. To be able to forget our family, leave it behind as easily as Julian does,' she paused. ‘For one night, I was single again.' She breathed in abruptly. ‘But I couldn't go through with it.' She looked up wistfully at them. She pointed at Sara, ‘Seeing you reminded me of who I was, for better or worse.'

‘You shouldn't have let me stop you,' Sara paused, ‘Julian is unredeemable, Connie. You can't stay with him this time.'

Connie didn't reply. She genuinely had no idea what she was going to do. She noticed that Lizzie was quiet. Connie was conscious it was the first time that they had ever asked her about Julian's affairs.

Connie eyed the horizon. ‘The only difference is this time I've been truly violated. He has had sex in my own home with one of my great friends. This woman lived in my house, helped me to bring up my children and shared every aspect of my life, before having a baby with my husband.'

No one spoke. Neither Lizzie nor Sara could comfort her. They couldn't help her. It was the reason that Connie had never confided in them before. What could even her best friends say?

She brushed imaginary dust off her knees. ‘I don't know what the answer is.'

The silence was restful. It was a pause before the certain madness of talking to Julian before he left for London. He had booked to take the plane back to Jo'Burg at midday tomorrow.

‘Divorce, Connie.' Sara stood up and strode to the holdall, pulling out a bottle of water. ‘I can heartily recommend single life.'

Connie squeezed Sara's arm. ‘You won't stay single forever, Sara.'

‘Oh please, I wasn't looking for sympathy. I am thankful to be on my own.'

Connie was surprised that Lizzie didn't add, what about me? She looked at her. Lizzie looked back at Connie.

‘Okay, I need to get something off my chest.'

‘Lizzie, go on,' Sara urged, spooning some panna cotta into her mouth.

Lizzie paused.

Connie knew what she was going to say. She smiled for the first time today.

‘I've had a sort of crush on Julian. I know, it's ridiculous and wrong. I am really ashamed. Can you forgive me, Connie? It really matters to me. You and Sara are my best friends. I would hate you both to think badly of me.'

Sara's laughter was loud and unabated. She seemed unable to stop.

Connie smiled again, she hoped sympathetically. ‘Lizzie, of course I do.'

‘You knew?' Lizzie said anxiously.

‘You're a mirror, Lizzie, much as we love you,' added Sara. ‘The whole group knows.'

‘How embarrassing. Even Luke?'

‘What? Do you fancy Luke as well?' Sara raised an eyebrow dramatically.

Connie laughed for the first time. It was good to know she could. She took Lizzie's hand. ‘You need to find a real, normal boyfriend. An available one.'

Unusually, Lizzie was keen to change the subject. ‘What about you, Sara?'

‘Me? I'm overwhelmed by the Jade Sutton case. God knows, by the time we get back in the morning, the verdict could be toast.'

‘No, silly,' Lizzie tapped her playfully on the arm. ‘You and men.'

‘Don't belong in the same sentence. Next question.' Sara's quip wasn't convincing to Connie, but she would never argue her out of the position.

Sara continued: ‘Lizzie, what are you going to do about getting a flat?'

‘I need to sort out a mortgage first. It's a nightmare.'

Connie dived into the property discussion. What about her parents acting as her guarantors? Had she spoken to Michael Stubbs? He had his own production company. He might be looking for a commissioning editor. She would give her his number as soon as they got back home. She could then get a pay rise and the boost of a new job. The practical problems of Lizzie's life were a welcome diversion. This was what Connie did best. She was a mender, a fixer, a binder, the carer of her family and her friends. It was her role. Julian's baby couldn't change that.

The sun had been slowly bleeding, leaking out across the horizon, seeping into the corners. It was a complete painting. Blue-black thickly dubbed across the top, descending into a broken line of dirty oranges then hot pink into deeper red. The sky was a giant pad of blotting paper no longer absorbent, but evenly spreading out its colours. Lying on the decking gave Connie the feeling they were miniature, unimportant and uninvolved with the serious business of earth.

Before the dessert was brought out, Katherine left Matt and Luke, pleading exhaustion. Luke knew stress was exhausting. The pressures of his business, Ella and Finn and Emma in the background, not to mention his ambition to successfully complete an Iron Man, a tough goal for an overworked, divorced entrepreneur who was turning forty, was overwhelming. He was knackered after running for an hour in the gym. He wanted to knock himself out for the night. His anxiety had been mounting since Connie's attempted drowning. He tried to block it out. Usually two vodkas fixed anything, only tonight they did nothing to assuage his nervous tick.

Dinner was intense without the girls to lighten the atmosphere. He missed Connie and Sara. Thankfully, Julian was nowhere to be seen. Luke was hoping that he had already packed himself off to London. Though he suspected this wasn't the case. Dan and Alan sandwiched themselves on either side of Katherine, leaving him to talk to Matt, who thankfully didn't mention his outburst with Julian. It left Luke feeling exposed. Connie's attempted drowning confirmed what he suspected: he still loved her.

He urged Matt to keep him company. They moved together across the terrace from the restaurant deck, up the couple of steps into the sitting room and across into
the bar at the back. Luke was conscious of Matt's increased bulk and the way he walked, rocking from one foot to another. Matt grunted as he mounted a barstool, which was buried beneath him. They both ordered drinks which they finished desperately fast before they said a word to each other.

Luke sighed. ‘Matt, you must be feeling shit.'

Matt stared at the grain coursing through the wooden bar. ‘Do you know the strange thing, Luke? I'm the one who's heartbroken,' he raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘Katherine's okay. She is strong, Luke. Women are.'

Luke nodded. He was thankful Matt hadn't gone through the gruesome details with him on the terrace and didn't do so now. He sensed that, like him, Matt simply wanted to be with a great mate and forget. Old friends were easy compared with women. A relief. Luke's chest was feeling tight. His body was completely exhausted.

Matt half-turned his head in his direction. ‘You look drained, Luke. This afternoon, it was a real shocker, wasn't it?'

‘I overreacted, but then Connie had tried to drown herself in the pool…' He trailed off.

Matt squeezed his arm sympathetically. ‘I'd have socked him if Lizzie hadn't.'

‘We're going to have another one, aren't we,' he confirmed without conferring and gave the bar man a definite nod.

With fresh drinks, the conversation could have gone off in a different direction, but he desperately wanted to talk to Matt. ‘Okay, here's the mad thing, I think that I still love Connie.'

‘Really? Surprise me,' Matt grinned and gave him a large bear hug that made Luke rock on his barstool.

When Matt relinquished him, Luke sighed. ‘What do you think?'

Matt glanced at him. ‘What do I think about what? Whether you really are in love with her? Or what you should do about it?'