Page 25 of Annabel and Her Sisters

I sat down to work feeling happier than I had for months.

Happy, I realized, with a start: not just content.

Up a few flights I could hear André calling to Vince, and then, spookily, the church bells chimed.

If I craned my neck, I could see the church spire.

I eyed it contemplatively. Listened to André finish his instructions, trot downstairs and go out.

Golly, it was all happening, wasn’t it? Doors flying open, men appearing and disappearing like a French farce.

Any minute now, Ralph would appear with a church leaflet and they’d meet face-to-face in the garden.

I went a bit hot. Gulped, and fell hastily to immersing myself in Antonia’s tryst with her new lover.

Sue had rightly suggested it should include more of a suggestion of menace– Giles, the sexy blacksmith, eventually turned out to be a bad egg.

Oh yes, even sexy blacksmiths. As they repaired to a hotel for the night, I set to work.

Maybe… I paused, thoughtful. Who was it who said her boyfriend put toothpaste on her toothbrush?

Alice. A friend of Polly’s. Alice had thought– sweet.

Polly– rightly– creepy. I later told Polly it was all about control. I added it to Giles’s repertoire.

On the Friday I met Ted, in Rowley’s, in Jermyn Street. Ted believed in a proper lunch. No wine bar or pub for him. I couldn’t believe the size of him when I sat down.

‘Blimey– another stone, Ted? You’ll fade away soon!’

He chuckled. ‘Ten pounds. And my doctor’s told me that’s it, enough.

So has Mum, incidentally. She said she barely recognized me.

’ Pammy was an equally professional bon viveur, even at eighty-odd, and I could imagine her regarding her son askance, sucking hard on her ciggie, wine glass in hand– ‘Oh no, darling, enough, I think.’

‘But I feel fantastic,’ he went on. ‘Can even walk to work these days and the old ticker’s benefiting, apparently. My chap at the Royal Brompton assures me I’m not on my way out at all, the valve’s worked a treat. Drink?’

‘Obviously.’ He poured me a glass of red from the carafe already on the table and then caught the waiter’s eye and ordered our usual steaks.

I grinned. ‘Not changing the habits of a lifetime, then?’

‘Not on a Friday,’ he told me. ‘Although I’ll go easy on the chips.

But a bit of iron never hurt anyone. Honestly, when I get those poncy party invitations asking if I have any dietary requirements, I want to put– Yes, red meat and good claret.

I did once. Got severely told off by Lucy. Wedding of a friend of hers.’

I giggled. ‘Surely they knew you were joking?’

‘You’d think, wouldn’t you? But the young have lost their sense of humour in this politically correct world.

D’you know, one girl put– “Yes, I’m pregnant.

” I mean, for God’s sake. Avoid the soft cheese, or whatever it is you’re not supposed to eat!

But it’s not a bloody dietary requirement, is it?

One bird I dated sent her salmon back because it hadn’t been ethically sourced– I mean, for fuck’s sake. ’

‘But Ted, hang on, I thought you had better news? On the dating front?’

‘Ooh I do, Annie, I do.’ He leaned in, eyes shining.

‘OK, so I go on this swipey swipey lark, see what’s occurring– trust me, it becomes a hobby, a sport, even– and I see an OK-looking lass, right?

So I swipe right, and she’s obviously not too appalled by my ugly mug so we start a bit of chit chat– that’s how it works, by the way– and then we meet in the park for a walk.

I’m getting careful these days. And tight. Penny-pinching, not pissed.’

‘Yes, I got that– go on.’ Our steaks had arrived on the little Bunsen burner in the middle of the table. We helped ourselves.

‘Anyway,’ he looked around when the waiter had gone to check he wasn’t being overheard. ‘She’s not bad-looking in the flesh, for a change. Slim, blondish, about my age, possibly a bit younger, and it turns out she used to be married to Hamish McGregor.’

‘Wasn’t he a bit of a dick?’

‘Total, and she divorced him for being so, but don’t you think that’s encouraging, Annie? We both dislike the same people.’

My mouth twitched. I cut a bit of steak and popped it in. ‘I mean, it’s a start,’ I agreed, my mouth full, ‘but don’t forget she married him. Shows a slight lack of taste. I’m hoping there’s more?’

‘There is. She doesn’t live in frigging Aldborough, or Burnham Market, like the last two. She’s in Hertfordshire of all places– my country patch!’ Ted had rented a cottage on Ginnie’s estate.

‘Right…’ I said slowly. ‘So… geographically, and on the grounds of mutual dislike, it’s working?’

‘So far,’ he said happily, tucking into his steak, clearly half starved. ‘And we’re going to meet up when I’m next at the cottage. Go for a coffee.’ He wagged his fork at me. ‘I’m taking it slowly this time.’

‘Very. A walk and now– drum roll– a coffee. And she’s good fun? Makes you laugh? Interesting? As well as pretty?’

He frowned, considering. ‘Will be, I think. I can see promise, put it that way. She laughed at all of my jokes, anyway. Well, some of them.’

‘You didn’t recite any William McGonagall?’ Ted, Scottish himself, had a habit of quoting a famously bad Scots poet, in a broad burr, which was funny if you knew him, but had driven Lorna mad.

‘Don’t laugh!’ she’d order, as Ted would croon:

‘The Tay, the Tay, the silvery Tay,

Flows past Dundeee … ev-e-rry day …’

Tears of mirth would roll down his cheeks as David and I collapsed– more at Ted’s tears than the poem.

‘No poetry yet,’ he agreed.

‘Don’t,’ I warned him. ‘But good, she sounds lovely. Name?’

‘Sukey. Pretty, don’t you think?’

‘Very,’ I agreed, although I didn’t feel I had much to go on.

‘Got a bit of a thing about needing at least five holidays a year, but nothing I can’t iron out, I don’t think.’

‘No, quite,’ I agreed doubtfully.

‘Bloody busy in the wine trade at the moment, thank God, so there’s dosh slopping around for a change. That helps. Anyway, what about you? Better luck? God, this steak is good.’ He pushed his side salad away. ‘Bugger that, for today.’

I told him about André, and then about Ralph and about how I didn’t really know them yet. How they were both nice, but you know… I tailed off.

He looked thoughtful. ‘Which one do you fancy?’

‘Well, that’s just it, Ted. They’re both nice–’

‘You said that.’

‘And at a concert in a park, or at a church fete, they’re great company, the pair of them. But I can’t imagine…’

‘Leaping into bed with either of them?’

‘No.’ I felt my toes clench in my espadrilles. ‘But perhaps that’s just me?’ I said anxiously. ‘Perhaps that’s my fault. And if I did– you know– at least kiss one of them, I’d sort of feel it?’

‘Hmm… you’re supposed to feel it first, really.’

‘Yes.’ I felt deflated. ‘And you do?’

‘Oh, with all of them,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Except the toothless wonder, perhaps.’

‘What about the one who sent her salmon back?’

‘I’d have a go. But I’m a man, don’t forget. It’s different.’

‘Yes, except it shouldn’t be, should it? I should surely feel like I did years ago? God, I was never remotely repressed.’

‘Yes, we used to hear the pair of you on the barge.’

‘Oh Ted !’ I was horrified. ‘You didn’t !’

‘Only joking,’ he grinned. ‘But I’m sure that will come, you know? The sexual attraction. You’re just out of practice.’

‘You think?’ I asked anxiously.

‘For sure. You just need to get back in the saddle.’

‘So did you– you know… with Sukey?’

‘We went for a walk!’

‘OK, but kiss?’

‘Yes, but not tongues. One foot in the stirrup.’

I giggled. ‘We sound like a couple of teenagers.’

‘And that, my love, is what we have to become, I’m afraid, if we are to carry on living.

’ He regarded me soberly, for once. ‘We owe it to David and Lorna. Not to drift into old age single and miserable. It doesn’t mean we forget them, but we forgive ourselves for being happy. We shouldn’t be alone forever.’

I nodded, knowing he was right. ‘Like Mum,’ I reflected sadly. ‘Alone. Not that she was miserable in London, she was happy. As is your mum, in Kent.’

‘Yes, but she’s a dreadful old flirt, don’t forget. Has many a Walker, as she calls them.’ He shuddered. ‘God knows what goes on. Not like your dear ma.’

I told him about her life at Ginnie’s, then at Clarissa’s. How I couldn’t reach her. He sighed. Topped up our glasses.

‘I always thought it was a bonkers decision.’

‘Me too,’ I said tearing my paper napkin into shreds on my lap.

‘She loved her garden.’ Ted was a great gardener. ‘That must have been a wrench.’ He saw my face collapse. ‘But things will settle down, you’ll see,’ he said hastily. ‘It’ll sort itself out. Give it time. Now, did I tell you about Sukey’s house in Ibiza?’

‘No!’ I sat up. ‘That is a plus, Ted.’

‘I’ll say. She’s solvent, for God’s sake. Complete result. Anyway–’

And off he went, telling me how she’d set up a yoga retreat at her villa by the sea, and how that was win-win in itself, because she ran courses for weeks on end, so they wouldn’t be in each other’s pockets.

Ted liked his own space, like me. So he wouldn’t have her around all the time.

And how, surely, she must be terribly fit, too?

If she taught yoga? I agreed she must, envisioning a tanned, slim, flexible body.

I instantly realized I didn’t have that.

I sat with a notebook, or at a computer, all day, inside.

I didn’t twist myself into shapes in the sunshine, and probably couldn’t, any more.

So what on earth was I doing even wondering which man I liked best?

When they probably went on dates all the time with women like Sukey, who could clutch their toes and put their heads on their knees?

I couldn’t even reach mine. Toes, not knees.

He showed me a picture of her on his phone.

Beautiful. With a kind smile. I told him so.

I watched Ted’s face light up as he talked on about her, and thought how lucky men were.

They only had to think about sex to want to do it.

David had once told me, when I’d pressed him, during what he called Silly Talk, that he probably thought about it at least ten times a day.

Whereas women, or at least me… I blinked rapidly over Ted’s head as he chatted on, wondering when I’d last even thought about it… not so much.