‘He won’t be. I know him very well. Maddy, he doesn’t want to share a flat with me; how can I expect him to want to share it with me and a baby? Anyway, he hates babies, he’s hardly likely to say “darling, that’s fantastic”. He’s not Jeremy. Not that I’d want to be having a baby with Jeremy, obviously,’ she added hastily.
‘No,’ said Maddy. ‘No, of course not.’
Maddy did come up with someone. A make-up artist she had worked with quite often, who had just had a ‘frightfully expensive operation, you know what I mean, worth every penny though, I have to say, in for just one night, all over next day. You don’t feel a thing.’
Maddy asked her if she could recommend the surgeon for a friend and the girl had laughed and said ‘you bet’, adding that it was funny how it was always a friend. ‘I’ve got the number somewhere—’ She rummaged in her bag. ‘Yes, here we are. Tell her to say Margaret Blake-Smith recommended her. That’s the code. So they know she’s not the police or something. It’ll cost her.’
‘He’ll do it!’ said Eliza. ‘Soon as he’s had my test confirmed. They need to be sure it’s genuine, of course. So – towards the end of next week. He’s got some clinic in Surrey, out Dorking way. Oh, Maddy, thank you so much. I just don’t know what I would have done otherwise.’
‘I just hope it’s the right advice,’ said Maddy gloomily. ‘How – how do you feel about it now?’
‘Oh – just terrifically happy and relieved,’ said Eliza
She certainly wasn’t going to tell Maddy she was having horrible dreams and waking up crying almost every night.
‘Louise, have you got any good flats I can look at? Round Pimlico way. Or even Battersea, if it’s right on the river?’
‘I’ll have a look. What on earth are you looking at flats for? Not thinking of moving, are you?’
‘No, no,’ said Matt hastily, ‘I wouldn’t give up my pad for anything. No, I’ve got a friend who’s moving to London. But it needs to be really nice, two bedrooms at least, maybe three, and a decent kitchen.’
‘Oh, right. Well, I’ll let you know. And you’ll be looking at them for him, will you?’
‘Yes. He lives up in the north; he can’t keep coming down here.’
‘No, course not.’
Pull the other one, Matt. But it was nice; he must really care about her, if he was prepared to move. He loved that place of his.
Well, so far he’d managed to pull the wool over Eliza’s eyes, Matt reflected. God, she must think he was one hell of a shit, believing that rubbish about taking it slowly. It had shaken him a bit; he’d be losing her if he wasn’t careful. And moved fast. He had felt a bit cautious at the very beginning of course; but now, now he just wanted to be with her. He really loved her. No other word for it. Just – love.
‘Mrs Clark? Yes, we have your result and it is positive. So Dr Melrose has asked me to book you in for next Friday. First thing. Please don’t have anything to eat or drink after midnight, and come just with overnight things and a packet of large sanitary towels. You’ll be leaving the following morning. Please arrange for someone to collect you, you won’t be able to drive. And please bring the fee in cash. We don’t take cheques.’
Absurdly, the thought of the sanitary towels was the most upsetting thing.
‘Matt, I’ve got to go down to see Mummy and Daddy next weekend. It’s their – their wedding anniversary and I must be there. I’m going down on Friday night.’
‘Oh, OK, fine. I’m not invited then?’
‘No – not this time Sorry.’
‘This is great, Louise. He’ll like this. Yes, I’ll take it. Well, what I mean is, I’ll tell him he should take it.’
‘Right, fine, OK.’
It was a great flat, in one of the big mansion blocks, right near the river, opposite Battersea Park. A big sunny sitting room, which would take a dining table easily as well, a large kitchen, it needed modernising of course, and two large bedrooms and one tiny one that would do for a study. Eliza would love it. Most important of all, it was empty.
He’d hoped to show it to her that weekend, but she was away. Well, Monday would do. No huge rush. She could go on thinking he was a shit for a couple more days. It would be all the nicer a surprise when she found he wasn’t. Well, not such a big one as she’d thought. He might even do something really romantic, like get some flowers in, put them in a big vase on the sitting-room windowsill, and put some champagne in the antique fridge. That was the sort of thing she’d really appreciate.
‘Eliza, I still think you ought to tell Matt.’
‘Maddy, for God’s sake, shut up about it.’
‘But he might surprise you.’
‘Matt couldn’t surprise me, Maddy. Not if he tried for all eternity. I know him too well. Much too well.’
‘So – do you think you still have a future together?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I hope so. Well, I think I hope so. Oh, I just don’t know.’
‘I think that flat’s for him, Miss Mullan. Him and Miss Clark.’
‘Now what makes you think that, Jenny?’
‘I just do. And I heard him asking her if she was free on Monday evening and then ordering some flowers to be delivered to it. He wouldn’t do that for some man from Yorkshire, would he?’
‘Probably not. Nor from anywhere else. Anyway, it’s to be a complete surprise, Jenny, and even I’m not supposed to know or have guessed, so don’t say anything about it at all, will you?’
‘Of course not, Miss Mullan.’
OK, this time tomorrow it would be over. Just twenty-four hours more to go. It helped that she still felt completely normal. Not sick, at all, not even specially tired. Well, a bit tired. She was obviously a natural at it. At pregnancy. Oh, God, she wished she didn’t keep crying. It was so stupid. If she hadn’t been able to sort things out, then she would really have had something to cry about …
She felt very ambivalent towards Matt; she was finding it hard to act normally. Half the time she thought she hated him, just for putting her through this; then she’d remind herself that he had no idea he was putting her through anything; and then she’d look at him, or he’d say something and she knew she didn’t hate him at all. God, what a mess. And was she going to be able to forgive him? But – it really wasn’t his fault. Or was it? Partly it was, for being such a pig, such a selfish, emotionally retarded, thick-skinned pig. But then she’d known he was all those things ever since she’d met him. Or certainly since she’d begun to get to know him. He was Matt, and she loved him. Was it fair to suddenly expect him to be sweet and tender?
Well, time enough to find out when it was over. Which it nearly was.
‘Matt, sorry. There’s a hitch on the flat.’
‘Oh, God. What?’
‘Nothing serious, but he won’t take your offer. Wants the asking price.’
‘Oh no. I’ve never paid the asking price for anything. It’s against my religion.’
‘Well, there’s someone else after it.’
‘Yeah, I bet.’
‘Matt, it’s true. I’m the agent, remember?’
‘Ah. Yes. Well – it’s a lot of money. How long have I got?’
‘Well, the bloke’s in a hurry. The other one. And the vendor is obviously going to take the higher offer.’
‘Bloody hell. Well – well, I think I might take another look at it. I’m not going to just lie down on my back with my legs in the air, I’ll see if I can find something wrong, some bargaining point. OK?’
‘Yes, OK, but you’d better get a move on. Like you need to decide today.’
‘All right, all right. I’ll get down there now. Well, this afternoon. That too late? Got to see some money men this morning.’
‘I’ll say I couldn’t get hold of you.’
‘Fine. Thanks, Louise.’
‘Jack, if you don’t mind I’m going to leave a bit early today. I’m looking for locations for the haunted-house feature and I think I might have something. Is that OK? I know you wanted to talk about the summer issues, but this is more urgent.’
‘Yes, course. Right, see you Monday morning. Good luck.’
If he only knew what he was wishing her good luck for.
She tidied her desk for the weekend, asked Milly if there were any calls.
‘Yes, just one, Eliza. From Matt. He wants you to call him.’
‘Matt!’ That was odd. They’d said goodbye that morning. Somehow she couldn’t face ringing him, telling him yet more lies. She’d be so relieved when this was over. So relieved.
‘I can’t speak to him now, Milly. If he calls again, tell him I’ve gone.’
‘Yes, of course. Have a good weekend. Hope you find a house. It’s such a good idea.’
She hoped it was. It was another of her over-ambitious ones, to photograph nightdresses in a supposedly haunted house. The trick would be to double-expose each photograph so that the model would be followed by, or stood beside, or be running away from, what looked like her own ghost. Rick Wilde, the art director, kept saying it was technically very difficult; but she’d talked to Rex and he said it would be a doddle. She decided it was simply because Rick hadn’t had the idea himself.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Shaw, but Miss Clark has left.’
‘Oh hell, Jenny. Are you sure?’
‘Well, that’s what her secretary said.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘Yes, Mr Shaw. Can I do anything?’
‘No. Well – maybe. Look, I’m going out now. If she does ring, can you just tell her to call me in the office. Say I know she’s going to her parents, but this is really important. At around five. No, six. I’ll still be at the flat at five. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Mr Shaw. I’ve written it down.’
Eliza went down to her car; her overnight bag was in the back. She looked at it and her eyes blurred with tears. Stop it, Eliza, stop being so pathetic.
She was just driving out through Wandsworth, towards the Kingston by-pass, headed out for Dorking, when she felt a pang of remorse about not ringing Matt. It might be important. His father hadn’t been well. Maybe she should …
She saw a telephone box, and pulled in.
Yes, it was worth the asking price. Definitely. He’d like to get a bit off, he’d found evidence of a bit of damp round the bathroom windows, so it was worth a try, but Louise was quite sure he wouldn’t manage it. Well – if he was going to have to go that far beyond his principles, he’d really want to be sure Eliza liked it. And that she was up for moving in with him. She might not be. You never knew with women. They were very perverse. She might say she wanted to go on a bit longer, as they were.
Well, he’d have to call the chap’s bluff. If Eliza couldn’t see it till Monday, that was all there was to it.
‘Jenny? It’s Eliza Clark.’
‘Oh – hello, Miss Clark. Yes. Can I help?’
‘Mr Shaw rang me about an hour ago. He wanted to speak to me.’
‘I’m sorry, Miss Clark. He’s not here. He said he knew you were going to your parents, but could you ring him because it was important, and if you did, could you ring again but not at five, because he would still be at the flat at five, but at six here.’
‘Right. I see. Well, it’s only half past four, so – what flat, Jenny?’
‘The one for his friend in Yorkshire.’
‘I’m sorry? What friend in Yorkshire?’
‘I really don’t know, Miss Clark. I don’t know any of his friends, and definitely not from Yorkshire. I mean, he doesn’t really have that many friends at all, not really, he’s too busy for that sort of thing—’
‘Is Louise there?’
‘No, she’s out as well. And so is Mr Simmonds. Well, it is Friday, and he always leaves at four on Friday to go to his fiancée’s house, as she’s Jewish. He is too, of course.’
‘Er – yes. Yes, of course. Well – you don’t know anything about this flat, do you? Or where it is?’
‘Oh, I’ve got the details here. Just a minute. Yes. Flat 6, Prince of Wales Mansions, Battersea. Sought-after location overlooking Battersea Park. One reception, three beds, large kitchen, bathroom, freehold – do you need to know the price because I can’t make out if it’s ten or sixteen thousand, it’s really badly smudged on the roneo but that’s a big difference, isn’t it?’
‘It is, yes.’ A strange sensation was filling Eliza. Very strange. She felt light-headed and her heart was thudding rather hard. The telephone box, which had seemed very unpleasant, filthy dirty and smelling of tramp, suddenly seemed to be rather lovely. ‘And – you say, he’ll still be there at five.’
‘That’s what he said, and he said to tell you he’d be back here at six. Which I’m sure he will be because he’s always very punctual.’ She hesitated. This was beyond her brief. But then, the article in
Honey
magazine she’d been reading this morning, about how to get ahead, said you had to use your initiative, and surely since Mr Shaw was going to meet Eliza at the flat on Monday anyway, he would be pleased to see her there now. ‘Um – I don’t know where you are, Miss Clark, but if you’re anywhere near Battersea, you might think about popping into the flat. And then if you miss him, you could come back here for six and see him then. I’ve got some very nice chocolate digestive biscuits in, they’re his favourite. I hope you like them too.’
‘I do, Jenny, very much.’ For some reason, Eliza felt her stomach heave. ‘Right, I think that’s a good idea, actually I am quite near Battersea. I’ll head over there now, should only take about ten minutes. Thanks very much indeed.’