Page 54 of A Clean Sweep

H igh noon, weapons drawn, dust thingies bouncing across the heat-baked soil.

Shame it was about eleven degrees, drizzling and the best they had to arm themselves with were slices of quiche Lorraine or a smoked salmon and cream cheese combo.

The good, the bad and the calorie-laden.

If it all went horribly wrong, they could club each other over the head with the complimentary bread sticks.

Three breadsticks later and Celeste spotted Sophie conversing with the earnest young woman in charge of tables.

She pointed enthusiastically towards Celeste – yeh, old dear in need of company – and Sophie made her way across.

With a face that resembled a bulldog who’d just chewed a wasp then decided a squirt of lemon juice was the perfect chaser. Oh dear. Was this really a good idea?

‘So. You wanted to talk? I’m not sure what the point is but I’m all ears.

’ Sophie was also chewing on a breadstick and fixing Celeste with a look that said, ‘Don’t mess with me or I’ll zap you with my death ray.

Which means you’ll be a pile of ashes in seconds.

And I’ll have no qualms about scooping you into a hankie and depositing you in a bin when I leave. ’

Come to think of it, she did have quite distinctive ears. Volcanic, was that the word? Certainly pointy and quivering with emotion right now.

'Look, Sophie, I'm as amazed as you are that we're sitting here like this. Thank you for agreeing to come. I just thought we should have a chat, clear the air a little.'

Two pink spots flared like beacons on Sophie's cheeks as she snapped another breadstick in half with brutal precision. Celeste gulped and clutched her throat nervously.

'Clear the air? Clear the air? It'll take a bit more than flinging a few windows open and squirting some air freshener to clear up this sorry mess.

Metaphorically speaking, of course. Have you really grasped the damage you've done?

I've spent all these years desperate to have a father while you did everything in your power to keep us apart.

It's all about Celeste with you. Cocooned in your safe little world, Michael catering to your every whim.

Fine, you didn't want children. But he already had one.

Me ! But you made sure that door stayed firmly closed. '

And if they hadn't bumped into each other, would that still be the case?

Would Celeste and Michael have been able to preserve the status quo?

Suddenly, like an explosion in her head, Celeste knew her world would have collapsed eventually.

If not this year or next, then sometime in the near future.

Maybe when the boys were a little older and started asking questions.

Do we have a granddad? Where is he? Can we go see him?

Sophie and her sons were part of her husband, their DNA interwoven for eternity.

She was a mere side road, a diversion. She loved Michael – and believed he still loved her – but if it came down to a straight choice there was no doubt who held the winning hand.

Sophie and her boys were the aces in the pack, Celeste the Joker.

And not a particularly clever or amusing one.

More the hapless court jester whose inability to entertain the king would soon lead to her grizzly demise.

Sophie certainly looked as if a hooded axe man would be a welcome addition to their table right now.

Celeste decided a spot of lunch would be preferable.

'Shall we order? I'm really quite peckish.

' Which was an outright lie as her stomach was churning like a washing machine on spin cycle.

Plus, she'd forgotten her reading glasses so everything on the laminated menu was a total blur.

'What do you fancy, Sophie? I'll just have what you're having, if you don't mind.

' She stared hopefully at the younger woman, who was beckoning to the waitress on the other side of the room.

She hurried over, pen and pad at the ready.

'So, what can I get you ladies? Today's pea and mascarpone soup is totally fab and I can also recommend the courgette fritters with goats' cheese and red onion chutney. Or we do a pretty spectacular frittata with mixed salad and the best home-made dressing you'll ever taste!'

Before Celeste could comment, Sophie turned to the waitress with a smile that completely transformed her pale little face. From bulldog to beauty in the blink of an eye.

'We'll both have the soup and a smoked salmon sandwich on wholemeal bread, thank you. And a large bottle of mineral water. Sparkling OK?’ She waited for Celeste to nod her assent, the smile retreating as quickly as the waitress’s departing back.

'This is a nice place, isn't it?' Celeste felt the need to fill the awkward silence that had descended in the minutes since their order had been taken.

'Funny, I'd never have found it if I hadn't followed your dad that day …

' Her voice wavered as Sophie gave another of her Medusa-strength glares.

Probably not the wisest move, harking back to the memorable moment she'd accused father and daughter of having an affair.

If she was to get Sophie on side – OK, at least persuade her that Celeste wasn't a malevolent old bag hell-bent on ruining her life – she needed a more tactful approach. Think, Celeste, think!

'How are the boys? Have they settled in at school?

It must be so hard for you, coping on your own.

' Oops, another own-goal, judging by the expression on Sophie's face.

The last time she'd seen such a pained look was when Michael had serious constipation, only alleviated by industrial quantities of prunes.

'Actually, I'm really curious to know how you found us. Dad never told me and, to be honest, I didn't give it much thought until now. Did you, like, bug his car or something?'

Celeste suppressed a snort of laughter at the very idea of her planting a tracking device on Michael's Audi. She wasn’t totally technically inept but anything electronic often defeated her.

She needed to dig out the instruction manual every time the clocks changed to reset her oven display.

Although she hadn't fared too badly with her fitness tracker sleuthing, even if the end result had short-circuited her safe little world.

What would Sophie think if she revealed the truth?

That she'd snooped on Michael's phone, deduced that something was amiss and pursued him like a latter-day Miss Marple, albeit clad in lycra and trainers rather than brogues and tweed.

'Well, it's a bit embarrassing actually but it all began when I bought myself a fitness tracker.

' She waggled her left wrist in Sophie's direction.

Not that she'd bothered checking the daily data much recently.

In the days and nights following her discovery she didn't really need an app to tell her she was barely sleeping and was lucky to pass the 4,000-step mark.

Sophie gave it a cursory glance just as the waitress arrived with their food.

They both picked up their spoons and gave the soups a desultory stir.

'I'm not quite following you.' Sophie had a pained expression, although that could be the result of taking a large mouthful of the steaming-hot soup.

Celeste nibbled the corner of her sandwich and contemplated her next move.

Would Sophie loathe her even more – if that was even possible – or might she feel a smidgeon of sympathy for a woman convinced her husband was doing the dirty on her?

Truthfully, she had no idea but very little to lose.

'Well, I just happened to have a peek at Michael's phone and—' For the next ten minutes Celeste related the whole sorry tale. Soups cooled and sandwiches remained barely touched. Sophie leant across the table, chin rested on her clasped hands, expression worthy of an ace poker player.

‘So that’s how I ended up making an absolute fool of myself.

My intention was to find a hobby I could share with your dad but instead I trampled all over our relationship.

’ Celeste felt tears welling and fumbled in her handbag for a tissue.

Before she could undo the clasp, Sophie reached over and handed her a paper napkin. Dabbing her eyes, she continued.

‘I set out with the best intentions, truly I did. I thought walking together would be good for us, for me in particular. I thought I’d lose a few pounds but the only thing I’ve lost is the man I love and now you both hate me.

And I really don’t blame you. I know I’m responsible for keeping you apart and what I did is unforgivable.

I’ve had plenty of time alone to think about what I’ve done and I have no excuses.

I’m a selfish, self-absorbed woman and you have every right to want nothing to do with me. ’

Sophie appeared to have stopped listening.

Having peeled the top layer of bread from her sandwich, she was now removing pieces of salmon with all the intensity of a pathologist performing a post-mortem.

Celeste’s already meagre appetite had vanished completely, along with any hope of a happy ending.

She decided enough was enough, pulling out her purse ready to pay and go.

As she did, she realised Sophie’s head was bowed and her shoulders were shaking.

Oh, crap, now she’d reduced her to tears.

Except … wasn’t that a guffaw of laughter?