to be here’ face.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Caroline Hunt is standing in front of him. A few too many whiskies and you had to watch your tongue around that one. Alex isn’t smiling, his mouth just seems to lift and stretch at the corners when he’s scowling. People often assume he’s thinking the opposite of what he’s thinking. It comes in useful. ‘Oh, nothing. Just made myself laugh, that’s all. Bad joke.’ The lie trips off his tongue.
‘Want to share?’
‘It wouldn’t be funny. The moment’s passed. Nice dress.’
‘Thanks. Good of you to notice. Marcus hasn’t. Still, maybe that’s a blessing. Saves having to go through one of those boring Is it new … How much … kind of conversations.’
‘I bet he notices. He’s just not saying. Keeping you on your toes.’
‘Marcus? Come off it. He wouldn’t have the imagination.’
‘Then he’s a very silly man. Should appreciate more what he’s got.’
At this point Alex would expect a woman’s eyebrows to lift, but Caroline’s don’t. She’s got that tell-tale polished, stretched, cling-filmed kind of look that says Botox and fillers. Alex has forbidden Juliet to ever consider it. How could their husbands ever know what their wives were thinking – plotting, even – if they couldn’t see their faces move, the truth within rather than the lies outside.
‘My, aren’t you the charmer?’ She giggles in an unsubtle, coquettish way.
‘Just stating the facts. Your glass – it’s empty. Would you like me to get you …’
Caroline brings her head closer to Alex. ‘Between you and me, I’d much prefer a glass of wine, red or white … This stuff just reminds me of mouthwash, lukewarm mouthwash.’
This time Alex’s smile is genuine. ‘Not only do you look good, but you’re also a lady of taste.’
‘Mr Miller, you want to be careful with that smooth tongue of yours, might just get you into a slippery situation.’
‘Not sure that’s entirely complimentary. Slippery … Let’s see, pinstripes too wide, wrong aftershave, brown shoes in London? Or maybe you were thinking of something more intimate?’
Caroline looks confused. Alex sees her pupils dilate just a fraction, but enough to tell him all he needs to know. She laughs because, Alex believes, she’s embarrassed at what he thinks – he knows – she’s been thinking. ‘You’re mad. Do you think we could do a raid on the bar, surreptitiously?’ She’s trying to sound normal, to cover the fact that he’s really got to her.
‘Yep. After you.’ Caroline brushes past him and her hips scrape against his, and she gives him a sideways glance. Alex rests his hand lightly in the small of her back, uses his finger to put the slightest pressure on the sensitive mid-point of her sacro-iliac. They are back in the hallway, standing side by side in front of the bar table. ‘Hi, you’re doing a great job there, and that mulled wine was really good.’ The barman nods his thanks. ‘But any chance of a glass of wine for the lady?’
He’s got an Italian accent, probably brought in from the wine bar down the Upper Richmond Road. ‘Red or white?’ Alex turns to Caroline.
‘White, thanks.’
‘And red for me.’ Alex says.
Once they’ve got their glasses Caroline starts heading back to the main body of the party. But Alex catches her elbow, gently but firmly. ‘Hey,’ he says.
She turns back to him. Once again, this would be the eyebrow- lift moment. It’s a bit uncanny, this frozen facial expression thing. It makes Alex uncomfortable because it challenges his reading skills. ‘Just a second. There’s something I want to show you.’ Alex knows there’s a little study just before the kitchen. He opens the door and grins at Caroline. ‘In here.’
She should be frowning. But she can’t. Still, she takes the bait and walks into the dark room in front of him. Alex closes the door, takes the glass from her hand, sets both his own glass and hers down onto a desk.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Caroline Hunt is standing in front of him. A few too many whiskies and you had to watch your tongue around that one. Alex isn’t smiling, his mouth just seems to lift and stretch at the corners when he’s scowling. People often assume he’s thinking the opposite of what he’s thinking. It comes in useful. ‘Oh, nothing. Just made myself laugh, that’s all. Bad joke.’ The lie trips off his tongue.
‘Want to share?’
‘It wouldn’t be funny. The moment’s passed. Nice dress.’
‘Thanks. Good of you to notice. Marcus hasn’t. Still, maybe that’s a blessing. Saves having to go through one of those boring Is it new … How much … kind of conversations.’
‘I bet he notices. He’s just not saying. Keeping you on your toes.’
‘Marcus? Come off it. He wouldn’t have the imagination.’
‘Then he’s a very silly man. Should appreciate more what he’s got.’
At this point Alex would expect a woman’s eyebrows to lift, but Caroline’s don’t. She’s got that tell-tale polished, stretched, cling-filmed kind of look that says Botox and fillers. Alex has forbidden Juliet to ever consider it. How could their husbands ever know what their wives were thinking – plotting, even – if they couldn’t see their faces move, the truth within rather than the lies outside.
‘My, aren’t you the charmer?’ She giggles in an unsubtle, coquettish way.
‘Just stating the facts. Your glass – it’s empty. Would you like me to get you …’
Caroline brings her head closer to Alex. ‘Between you and me, I’d much prefer a glass of wine, red or white … This stuff just reminds me of mouthwash, lukewarm mouthwash.’
This time Alex’s smile is genuine. ‘Not only do you look good, but you’re also a lady of taste.’
‘Mr Miller, you want to be careful with that smooth tongue of yours, might just get you into a slippery situation.’
‘Not sure that’s entirely complimentary. Slippery … Let’s see, pinstripes too wide, wrong aftershave, brown shoes in London? Or maybe you were thinking of something more intimate?’
Caroline looks confused. Alex sees her pupils dilate just a fraction, but enough to tell him all he needs to know. She laughs because, Alex believes, she’s embarrassed at what he thinks – he knows – she’s been thinking. ‘You’re mad. Do you think we could do a raid on the bar, surreptitiously?’ She’s trying to sound normal, to cover the fact that he’s really got to her.
‘Yep. After you.’ Caroline brushes past him and her hips scrape against his, and she gives him a sideways glance. Alex rests his hand lightly in the small of her back, uses his finger to put the slightest pressure on the sensitive mid-point of her sacro-iliac. They are back in the hallway, standing side by side in front of the bar table. ‘Hi, you’re doing a great job there, and that mulled wine was really good.’ The barman nods his thanks. ‘But any chance of a glass of wine for the lady?’
He’s got an Italian accent, probably brought in from the wine bar down the Upper Richmond Road. ‘Red or white?’ Alex turns to Caroline.
‘White, thanks.’
‘And red for me.’ Alex says.
Once they’ve got their glasses Caroline starts heading back to the main body of the party. But Alex catches her elbow, gently but firmly. ‘Hey,’ he says.
She turns back to him. Once again, this would be the eyebrow- lift moment. It’s a bit uncanny, this frozen facial expression thing. It makes Alex uncomfortable because it challenges his reading skills. ‘Just a second. There’s something I want to show you.’ Alex knows there’s a little study just before the kitchen. He opens the door and grins at Caroline. ‘In here.’
She should be frowning. But she can’t. Still, she takes the bait and walks into the dark room in front of him. Alex closes the door, takes the glass from her hand, sets both his own glass and hers down onto a desk.
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