‘I had lunch with Jeremy, yesterday,’ he said, wiping butter off his chin.
‘Oh, I’m surprised you found the time.’
‘I always find time for things that matter. I think I’ve found them a house.’
‘That’s clever of you,’ I said coolly. ‘Whereabouts?’
‘Kensington, round the corner from me.’
‘How can they afford it? Jeremy hasn’t got that kind of money.’
‘But Gussie has. She’s going to buy the house.’
‘Jeremy’d loathe that.’
‘Not now, he doesn’t. I’ve managed to persuade him how sensible it is. They can let out the bottom floor which will pay off the mortgage, and it means they can get married next month instead of waiting until November.’
His face had that dreamy far-away look of a volcano that has just devastated entire villages. I wanted to kick his teeth in but I was determined not to betray any emotion.
‘They must be thrilled,’ I said.
‘Yes they are. I expect Gussie’ll ask you to be a bridesmaid.’
I couldn’t speak for rage. I was glad when the pretty waitress came over. ‘Everything all right sir?’ She smiled at him admiringly.
‘Marvellous.’ He looked her over in a way that made me even angrier.
‘How much further have we got to go?’ I asked as we got back into the car.
‘Twenty, thirty miles, not more.’
The stars were of Mediterranean splendour now, the newly cut hay smelt sweet, feathery moths were held prisoner in the beams of the powerful headlights. The air, cool at fast speeds, grew hot again whenever Gareth slowed down to take a corner. We were driving past the Reedminster fly over now.
‘Look,’ said Gareth, pointing upwards. On a huge floodlit placard was written the word ‘Llewellyns’.
‘You?’ I said, in surprise.
‘Me. I’ll be bigger than Taylor Woodrow one day.’
‘Quite the boy wonder. Why do you go on working so hard? You’ve made your packet. Why’s it so important to make more money?’
‘Oh lovely, you must be weak in the head. For heaven’s sake, if you play a game, even if it’s only scrabble, you want to win don’t you?’
‘And it matters so much to you, the winning?’
‘Of course it does, why not have a Lamborghini and a Rolls Royce and a nice house in London, and a villa in France? And if you can throw in a few good paintings, a string of race horses, the odd yacht in the Med, well bully for you.’
‘It’s status symbols that really matter to you don’t they?’
‘And to you too,’ said Gareth. ‘More than anyone, you need a sybaritic existence with different guys to take you to trendy restaurants, buy you fur coats, fly you to all the smart places. It wouldn’t amuse you at all to be shackled to a poor man.’
I opened my mouth to protest, but he went on.
‘Jeremy’s the same. He’s lucky to be marrying Gus, who’s got some bread.’
‘Jeremy’ll make money out of writing,’ I said quickly.
‘Nuts! He can’t write “bum” on a wall. I bet you don’t understand a word of those poems of his you claim to be so fond of, and do you know why? It’s because there isn’t anything in them to understand.’
‘I can only assume you must be jealous of his talent,’ I said furiously.
‘Oh, don’t be pompous, sweetheart. There’s far more poetry in those blue eyes of his than there is in any of his verse.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be a friend of his?’
‘So I am, but I believe in doing practical things for him like getting him somewhere to live, rather than swooning over his tin-pot poetry.’
I didn’t trust myself to speak. Gareth said, ‘We’ll be there in ten minutes.’
I started to do my face.
He flicked on a spotlight to help me, then said, ‘Go easy on the warpaint.’
‘Why?’ I asked, painting a more seductive curve on my bottom lip.
‘Because Jeremy belongs to Gussie.’
‘And?’
‘You’ve come down with the sole purpose of getting him away from her.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Oh yes you do. That performance you two were putting on the other night, not speaking to each other when anyone else was around, rushing together as soon as you were alone. I heard you both: “Oh darling, we shall have to rely on self-control.”’
It was a brilliant imitation of my voice.
‘Gussie is an old friend,’ I said evenly.
‘That’s the trouble, you’re jealous of her.’
‘Jealous. Me jealous of Gussie? You must be joking!’
‘Because, despite your looks, people love her more than they do you.’
‘That’s not true,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Gussie is a friend and I couldn’t be less interested in Jeremy.’
‘Good,’ said Gareth amiably. ‘Keep it that way then. Here we are.’
He turned off the road down a long woody tunnel. Clenching my hands, I choked back the torrent of rage and fury that was ready to pour out of me. Jeremy’s mad for you, I said to myself, keep calm. Gareth’s just trying to bug you. Gareth stretched.
‘What a marvellous prospect, three whole days of sleep, sex and sun.’
‘It isn’t very likely,’ I hissed, ‘that you’ll get any sex from me.’
‘Not likely at all, unless I ask you for it,’ he said.
Just as I was groping for a really crushing reply, we emerged out of the tunnel and found ourselves almost at the water’s edge. The sky unfurled like a banner cascading with stars. Black hulks of barges darkened the water. Behind, the murky towers and pinnacles of Oxford rose indistinctly.
Jeremy emerged from the nearest boat to meet us. I’d never felt more pleased to see anyone. I wanted to throw myself sobbing into his arms.
‘Hullo,’ he said. ‘You made it OK? Let me help with the cases.’
‘I’m desperately sorry we’re so late,’ I said.
‘Doesn’t matter. Gareth rang this afternoon and said you wouldn’t be here much before midnight.’
In the headlamps of the car I could see the barge was painted scarlet and decorated in brilliant blues, yellows and greens, like a gypsy caravan. The brasswork glinted, the red curtains glowed behind the saloon windows. In gold letters edged with blue was written her name, The Lady Griselda.
‘Isn’t she lovely?’ I said.
Jeremy helped me across the gangplank, but he didn’t squeeze my hand, nor answer when I whispered that it was heavenly to see him again.
Gussie was in the kitchen. She was wearing old jeans and an oil-stained shirt. I suddenly realized how stupid I must look bringing three suitcases.
‘Tavy,’ she hugged me. ‘How lovely. Have you been having fun?’
‘Yes, marvellous,’ I lied, disengaging myself from her. I didn’t want oil stains all over my new blazer.
‘You must be exhausted. Come and see your cabin, and then I’ll give you a huge drink.’
We went through a cabin with two bunks in it.
‘This is Jeremy and me,’ she said, and then opening another door, ‘This is you and Gareth.’
Oh, my God, I thought, I’m going to have to spend the whole weekend fighting him off. Our suitcases were already deposited on one of the bunks. On a ledge stood a glass jam jar which Gussie had filled with meadow sweet, buttercups and already wilting roses.
‘The heads and the washbasin are next door. I’m afraid they’re a bit primitive, and the saloon’s beyond that,’ she said. ‘Come through when you’re ready.’
I washed and put on more scent and make-up to give me confidence. In the saloon I found them all gathered round a portable television set.
‘Look at Gareth’s toy,’ said Gussie.
‘Trust him to bring the twentieth century with him,’ I said and looked at Jeremy, but he looked quickly away.