birthday at a club in Leicester Square. She found out he’d been at a quiz night at a pub in Clerkenwell. As they turned off the main road, he had followed her to the door of a four-storey block of council flats.
Nine times out of ten, maybe even ninety-nine times out of a hundred, this would have been a very silly thing to do, but it turned out to be so easy and uncomplicated that neither of them could see a reason not to do it again. Their relationship was undemanding. It was of the here and now. They enquired very little about each other’s past. He knew she was about five years younger than him, divorced, with one grown-up child who was living in the north-west. She worked part-time at a children’s nursery and led a busy social life. He was fairly sure he wasn’t her only partner, which wasquite a comfort. Outside of sex, their lives remained completely separate.
It shouldn’t really have happened, and it certainly shouldn’t have lasted, but here he was, six months on, turning off the main road towards her apartment building, because she was the only person he wanted to be with right now. Even Mae Lennox, whom he dreamt about on a weekly basis, wouldn’t have been the one for him tonight. He needed the welcome embrace of anonymity.
Tess’s voice crackled out of the intercom.
‘Come on up.’
And the metal gate swung open.
Tessa enjoyed the physical side of things. She was well built, a little overweight, but in good shape for her age. For her, sex was like a playground, full of different rides; some breathtaking, to be enjoyed with yelps and shrieks, others more traditional, but all to be tried at least once. Her small bedroom was cluttered with knick-knacks: mugs from Ramsgate, Eiffel towers, polar bears and royal wedding teacups. Russian dolls, wooden puzzles, miniature candlesticks and little rubber elephants, all of which could be sent flying in the course of a night.
When Mabbut awoke, light was coming through the curtains. He lay for a while, wondering what it was about this room and this woman that seemed so necessary to him. He concluded that it was because he could walk away and come back whenever he wanted. There were no expectations and therefore no consequences. And no lies. He dozed briefly until his mobile sounded. The first bars of Beethoven’s Fifth jangled beside him. It was just after eight in the morning.
Mabbut reached for the phone and swung himself out of the bed.
‘Hello?’
‘Am I interrupting the creative flow?’
He walked out into the living room.
‘Very funny.’
‘Things are moving fast. A contract’s arrived. I don’t want to keep these boys waiting.’
Silla was in steamroller mode.
‘Can you come in, dear boy? If at all possible.’
She laid on the sardonicism.
‘After you’ve been to the hairdresser perhaps? Before the gym? Maybe combine it with a visit to the chiropodist?’
‘Just a minute.’
He searched around for his clothes.
‘I’d like to get it signed. It’s quite a lot of money.’
‘Ah!’
Mabbut winced with pain as his foot made contact with a tiny glass rabbit.
‘Are you with somebody?’
‘No, I’m just . . . I’ve just put the milk on. Hang on a minute.’
‘Only I rang the house and you weren’t there.’
‘No. I went to see Sam last night and stayed at his place.’
‘How was it?’
‘What?’
‘The play.’
‘Oh, it was good. You should go and see it.’
She lowered her voice.
‘The contract is looking good. Best I’ve seen in a while. But it has confidentiality clauses hanging on it like a Christmas tree, so just for now keep schtoom. Even with Sam, all right?’
‘Oh, sure! Sure! ’
‘If you could make it here in an hour or so. There are things we need to discuss, and though I love Ron dearly, he’s not renowned for his patience.’
‘Look, Silla. We have to talk about this.’
‘OK. In an hour. My place. And say “hi” to Sam.’
The phone went dead.
Tess called out from the
Nine times out of ten, maybe even ninety-nine times out of a hundred, this would have been a very silly thing to do, but it turned out to be so easy and uncomplicated that neither of them could see a reason not to do it again. Their relationship was undemanding. It was of the here and now. They enquired very little about each other’s past. He knew she was about five years younger than him, divorced, with one grown-up child who was living in the north-west. She worked part-time at a children’s nursery and led a busy social life. He was fairly sure he wasn’t her only partner, which wasquite a comfort. Outside of sex, their lives remained completely separate.
It shouldn’t really have happened, and it certainly shouldn’t have lasted, but here he was, six months on, turning off the main road towards her apartment building, because she was the only person he wanted to be with right now. Even Mae Lennox, whom he dreamt about on a weekly basis, wouldn’t have been the one for him tonight. He needed the welcome embrace of anonymity.
Tess’s voice crackled out of the intercom.
‘Come on up.’
And the metal gate swung open.
Tessa enjoyed the physical side of things. She was well built, a little overweight, but in good shape for her age. For her, sex was like a playground, full of different rides; some breathtaking, to be enjoyed with yelps and shrieks, others more traditional, but all to be tried at least once. Her small bedroom was cluttered with knick-knacks: mugs from Ramsgate, Eiffel towers, polar bears and royal wedding teacups. Russian dolls, wooden puzzles, miniature candlesticks and little rubber elephants, all of which could be sent flying in the course of a night.
When Mabbut awoke, light was coming through the curtains. He lay for a while, wondering what it was about this room and this woman that seemed so necessary to him. He concluded that it was because he could walk away and come back whenever he wanted. There were no expectations and therefore no consequences. And no lies. He dozed briefly until his mobile sounded. The first bars of Beethoven’s Fifth jangled beside him. It was just after eight in the morning.
Mabbut reached for the phone and swung himself out of the bed.
‘Hello?’
‘Am I interrupting the creative flow?’
He walked out into the living room.
‘Very funny.’
‘Things are moving fast. A contract’s arrived. I don’t want to keep these boys waiting.’
Silla was in steamroller mode.
‘Can you come in, dear boy? If at all possible.’
She laid on the sardonicism.
‘After you’ve been to the hairdresser perhaps? Before the gym? Maybe combine it with a visit to the chiropodist?’
‘Just a minute.’
He searched around for his clothes.
‘I’d like to get it signed. It’s quite a lot of money.’
‘Ah!’
Mabbut winced with pain as his foot made contact with a tiny glass rabbit.
‘Are you with somebody?’
‘No, I’m just . . . I’ve just put the milk on. Hang on a minute.’
‘Only I rang the house and you weren’t there.’
‘No. I went to see Sam last night and stayed at his place.’
‘How was it?’
‘What?’
‘The play.’
‘Oh, it was good. You should go and see it.’
She lowered her voice.
‘The contract is looking good. Best I’ve seen in a while. But it has confidentiality clauses hanging on it like a Christmas tree, so just for now keep schtoom. Even with Sam, all right?’
‘Oh, sure! Sure! ’
‘If you could make it here in an hour or so. There are things we need to discuss, and though I love Ron dearly, he’s not renowned for his patience.’
‘Look, Silla. We have to talk about this.’
‘OK. In an hour. My place. And say “hi” to Sam.’
The phone went dead.
Tess called out from the
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