A Most Desirable Marriage Page 18

  Jo didn’t answer, regretting the impulse to call her husband in the first place. She was not going to admit to him that he was right about the children, although he was; she should have told them weeks ago. But just thinking of what she and Travis did together made her blush. And imagining Cassie and Nicky imagining it made her feel absolutely sick.

  ‘Let’s not argue,’ she heard him say, his tone infinitely weary.

  ‘No, let’s not.’

  The silence that followed implied they were unable to find a way to talk without doing so.

  ‘Please don’t discuss me and Travis until I’ve had a chance to talk to them,’ she begged, hearing an echo of Lawrence’s own words all those months ago, about Arkadius.

  ‘I won’t. But I really think we should get going on the house. Otherwise we’ll have to wait till after Christmas.’

  His words sounded suspiciously like blackmail to Jo: I won’t cause trouble with the children over Travis as long as you play ball and put the house on the market. She didn’t want to have another fight, so she said, ‘I don’t want to talk about that right now.’ But there was no way on earth that she would even consider his request until after the New Year.

  When she got home she was cold and shaken. She ran herself a hot bath and soaked in it for hours, her mind whirring. Thoughts about Cassie knowing – would Nicky have told her yet? – about facing Nicky, about Travis. Travis. The play was over. It wouldn’t be long before he was offered another job. And it wouldn’t be in London. It was bound not to be in London.

  Jo dried herself and got into her pyjamas, but she knew there was no chance she would sleep yet. Maybe I should wait up and talk to Cassie tonight, she thought. So she wrapped herself in the rug and settled down to some late-night TV, channel-hopping back and forth, taking in little of the mainly brash, braying Saturday night chat shows or stand-ups on offer as she waited for the others to come home. When she heard the key in the lock, she sat up quickly, swung her legs off the sofa. Cassie, looking exhausted and hollow-eyed.

  ‘What are you doing up, Mum?’

  ‘Waiting for you.’

  ‘Yeah . . .’ Cassie peeled off her coat and scarf and threw herself in the armchair next to the sofa. She gave Jo a steady look, which she found hard to interpret.

  ‘Nicky told you?’

  Cassie nodded, let out a long breath. ‘And I spoke to Travis. Nicky’s furious. He and Travis are having it out as we speak. Nicks said he was only waiting till the play was over to say something.’

  ‘I should have been more honest.’ She couldn’t meet her daughter’s eye.

  ‘You should. But I can see why you weren’t.’

  Jo was surprised that her daughter didn’t appear more upset.

  ‘I do feel a tad foolish . . . you two sneaking about behind my back, all loved up . . . and me not having a clue what was going on.’

  ‘I know. I’m really sorry, darling. I’m ashamed of myself. But I thought you’d be so disgusted with me. Donna said I should come clean ages ago, but I just didn’t have the nerve.’

  ‘God . . . like I ever imagined my own parents . . . Go, Dad. Go, Mum. Tied first in the Most Embarrassing Parent competition.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Her daughter was silent for a moment.

  ‘But you know what? Finally it’s your life. Dad started it. I honestly don’t blame you.’

  ‘You don’t? Even though he’s so much younger than me?’

  Cassie pushed her hair back from her face, gave out a big yawn. ‘Our family used to be so normal it was almost worrying. Now look at us.’ She started to laugh.

  Jo, from sheer relief, joined in. Cassie came over and sat beside her mother, took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘You’re not in love with Travis are you, Mum?’

  Jo held her breath. Love. She didn’t know how to answer. ‘It was so unexpected, finding him attractive like that,’ she said eventually. ‘And I never thought he’d feel anything for me in a million years.’

  ‘Doesn’t answer my question.’

  ‘No . . . well, I’m not sure I can.’ Jo took a deep breath. ‘Anyway, he’ll be off soon. And we both knew he would be. It’s just . . . what it is.’

  Cassie laughed. ‘Right. That’s perfectly clear then.’

  ‘Sorry . . .’

  They both stopped talking at the sound of Travis opening the front door. He came in without a word and sat down heavily in the chair Cassie had just vacated. He shook his head at them both.

  ‘I guess I had it coming.’

  ‘What happened?’ Jo asked.

  ‘We rowed, then I took off before he had a chance to land one on me. Boy was he mad. Said we’d all betrayed him . . . including Cassie. Said you must have known about us this whole time.’

  ‘He’s such a baby,’ Cassie said. ‘And I reckon that Amber girl winds him up. Us-against-the-world sort of stuff. It’s how she keeps him onside.’

  ‘Where was Amber by the way?’ Jo asked.

  ‘Probably at home starving herself,’ Cassie said.

  ‘Cassie . . .’ Jo gave her daughter a reproving glance.

  ‘She’s been in all week,’ Travis said, ‘waiting for Nicky at the end of the show.’

  ‘Then it’s us she’s trying to avoid,’ Jo said. ‘Can’t blame her. I’m so sorry Nicky was such a pain,’ she added, apologizing yet again. But she was sorry. Not that she and Travis had got together – she’d never regret that – but sorry it had caused such fallout.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ Cassie declared, dragging herself off the sofa. ‘Night guys. Sleep well.’ Jo saw the embarrassed look her daughter shot between her and the American before she left.

  Travis came and sat beside her as soon as they were alone. His arms went round her and she clung to him.

  ‘Feels good,’ she whispered as he bent to kiss her.

  *

  ‘Where have you been all my life?’ Donna shrieked, as soon as she saw Jo outside the hut the following morning. ‘Come in, come in. I haven’t seen you properly in weeks.’

  It was still early and the hut was absolutely freezing, despite the blow-heater blasting away in the corner. Donna hadn’t started work yet. She was sitting on her bench, cradling a mug in hands encased in fingerless mittens. She was wrapped as if for the Arctic, her small body bulky and misshapen with layers of jumpers and scarves, a brightly coloured, knitted Chullo hat with earflaps pulled down over her dark hair. Jo shivered, clutching her jacket round her body against the cold.

  ‘It’ll warm up in a minute.’ Donna waved a hand towards the steaming coffee pot. ‘Help yourself.’

  Jo shook her head. ‘Where’s Max?’

  ‘Waiting inside till it’s hotter. He’s no fool.’ Her friend watched Jo settle on her favourite stool, then with one eyebrow raised said, ‘So? Been too busy bonking actor boy to talk to your old friends?’

  Jo laughed. ‘Sorry . . . yes, something like that. But it all kicked off last night . . . bloody Lawrence told Nicky about me and Travis.’

  ‘And I take it he was underwhelmed?’

  ‘Could say that.’

  ‘And Cassie?’

  ‘She knows too. But she’s been amazing. Doesn’t seem angry, just thoroughly disappointed in her parents.’

  ‘I must say . . .’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘So what did Nicky say?’

  ‘Nothing . . . to me at least. But he had a set-to with Travis after the show. He refuses even to have the conversation with me.’

  ‘Oh dear. What’ll you do?’

  Jo shook her head. ‘You know what? I’m not going to do anything. It’s his problem. I’ve apologized in about five messages to him. There’s nothing more I can do if he continues to sulk.’

  Donna clapped her gloved hands. ‘Good to hear you being so robust about it, darling.’

  ‘I think he’s being childish. Fine, be cross with me if he has to. But as you’ve said a million times, I’m not hurting him. And if Cassie can be O
K with it . . .’

  ‘Obviously Lawrence was jealous though.’

  ‘Jealous?’ It had never occurred to her. ‘I don’t think so. What makes you say that?’

  ‘Why else would he have dobbed you in to Nicky behind your back?’

  ‘He didn’t dob me in, exactly. He assumed Nicky knew. But it’s his precious house he’s worried about. Thinks Travis is getting his feet under the table and robbing him of his inheritance.’

  Donna laughed. ‘LOVE IT. Serves the idiot right. You should do just that.’

  ‘I wish.’

  ‘So it’s going well . . .’

  Jo’s shoulders slumped as she let out a low groan. ‘It’s great.’ She looked up at her friend. ‘But he’ll be gone soon . . . another job somewhere. This play’s been good for his career.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Can’t think about it.’ But despite her words, she could think about little else. She and Travis had stayed a long time on the sofa, lying in each other’s arms, the night before.

  ‘Don’t like to leave you,’ he’d said.

  ‘Don’t like it either.’

  He’d laughed softly. ‘This is where the Power of Now is supposed to kick in. To rescue us from the future.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she said, after a moment’s consideration. ‘Not working for me so far.’

  ‘Nor me neither. But hey, I haven’t gone yet. It might be a while . . .’

  They’d both known that wasn’t true. He’d already told her that the man in the tweed coat – one Jack Lebus – was considering him for a part in an HBO mini-series about to start shooting in New York. He was waiting to hear from his agent today.

  ‘This is why,’ Jo told Donna now, ‘I refuse to waste time on Nicky’s hurt pride at the moment. I might only have a few more days with Travis.’

  ‘God, darling. This is worse than Brief Encounter. Aren’t you heartbroken at the thought of losing him?’

  Jo shrugged. Have I ever really had him to lose? she wondered. It was almost as if Travis were a will-o’-the-wisp, a beautiful figment of her imagination.

  *

  When she went back home it was still only a quarter to eight, but Cassie was already in the kitchen with a mug of tea and a slice of toast with Marmite.

  ‘Hi, you’re up early.’

  Her daughter looked resolute. ‘I’m going back to sort it out with Matt.’

  Jo sat down at the table. ‘Today? Is it because of us, me and Travis?’

  Cassie shrugged. ‘I am kind of over playing gooseberry . . . but it’s not just that, Mum. Hearing you talk about him last night, it reminded me what I’m missing . . . having someone who really gets me, thinks I’m the bee’s knees.’

  ‘You don’t think you have that with Matt?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe once. Anyway, I’ll give it one more go.’ She took a sip from her cup. ‘But if he won’t let up a bit on the farm, I’m not sticking around to be ignored for the next thirty years.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘I want kids. And yes, it’d be an idyllic place to bring them up, but not if it’s going to be the planet over the children. He should have married one of those tough, red-faced farmer’s wives. They put up with all kinds of shit. But I’m not like that.’ She shrugged. ‘So . . . we’ll see.’

  ‘He’d be stupid to let you go,’ Jo said.

  ‘Yeah, well, he might be stupid. Men are stupid. Look at Dad.’

  She’d already packed her stuff into the new backpack she’d bought, put on her new trainers. By nine-thirty she was gone, Jo and Travis waving her off on the doorstep like an old married couple.

  The house suddenly seemed very quiet. Just the two of them. Travis looked at her. She looked back at him.

  ‘Did we run her off? I feel bad if we did,’ Travis said.

  ‘We may have. But it’s probably just as well. She has to sort out her marriage sometime.’

  ‘Sure. I guess I feel guilty that she had to deal with us too.’

  Jo nodded. ‘Me too. She was so generous, didn’t give either of us a hard time. And she really could have.’

  They stood in silence in the kitchen. Jo had put the kettle on and it had boiled, turned itself off, but neither of them made any attempt to get the tea.

  Then both of them moved simultaneously towards each other. His arms were round her, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

  ‘We could always try and assuage our guilt by going upstairs . . .’ he muttered into her neck.

  She laughed. ‘It’s a very bad idea you know, using sex to medicate.’

  ‘But hey, we are very bad. We’re super-bad. It’s been confirmed. What have we got to lose?’

  There was a freedom, a joy about their lovemaking that morning. All anxiety, all restraint had vanished. And they knew each other’s bodies by now, knew what the other liked. It was pure pleasure.

  ‘I never thought . . .’ Jo began later.

  Travis looked at her enquiringly when she didn’t finish the sentence. He’d run her a bath and she was lying back in the warm water as he sat in his black YSL trunks, cross-legged on the bath mat.

  ‘I never imagined . . . I would have this . . . not with anyone, particularly not with someone like you.’

  ‘Like me?’

  ‘Well, you know . . .’ She didn’t want to say ‘young’, didn’t want to say ‘gorgeous’.

  ‘Because of Lawrence?’

  ‘Yes. But I mean particularly you.’ She turned her head to look at him. ‘You’re just very unlikely.’

  This made him laugh. ‘I’ve never been called “unlikely” before.’

  ‘But you are. To me. And extraordinary.’

  Travis looked away, embarrassed. ‘I’m so not a girl-in-every-port kinda guy, you know.’ He paused. ‘I . . . just couldn’t resist you.’

  His simple statement brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘I haven’t told you . . .’ he began.

  She held her breath.

  ‘Bobby rang late last night. I got the part. Leave Friday.’

  She didn’t ask why he hadn’t said something sooner. It didn’t matter. The normal sensitivities between two people who were contemplating a life together – such as assessing the other’s long-term suitability on all fronts, including sex, money, trust – were irrelevant. But nothing was going to stop her heart contracting at his news. She pulled herself up in the bath.

  ‘You got the job. Fantastic! Congratulations.’

  He grinned. ‘Yeah, thanks. HBO, a full-on mini-series set in a New York apartment building on the Upper East Side. It’s a co-op . . . you know, the ones where the residents’ board decides who gets to live there.’

  ‘What’s your part?’

  ‘I’m the son of one of the apartment owners, squatting really, and not approved of. Being manipulated by a society hostess on the floor above. All dumb soap stuff, sex, money and politics . . . should be awesome.’

  ‘I’m so pleased for you. Don’t let them murder you in the first series.’

  Travis laughed, stood up as Jo did and held out the towel as she stepped out of the bath, wrapping her in it and pulling her into his arms again. She felt almost dizzy at what he was telling her.

  *

  They didn’t say, ‘We’ll keep in touch’. He didn’t say, ‘I’ll be back soon’. She didn’t say, ‘Don’t leave me’. But the thoughts were there. They constantly pricked the edge of her consciousness, and she saw Travis’s in his eyes – that hesitation sometimes, when he would just gaze at her but say nothing.

  In the days left to them they closed out the rest of the world, ignored all calls, enjoying the brief time uninhibited. Often they just talked and talked together about life, the universe and each other, with a freedom based in their imminent separation. And they made love, of course, lingering over each other’s bodies, savouring every element that gave them pleasure, as if committing the softness of skin, the contour of a muscle, the scent, the line of lips and cheek, to memory.

&
nbsp; Early on Friday morning – Travis had to leave for the airport by ten – they lay for the last time together, their bodies tight against each other. Jo had been awake for hours in the night, and she knew Travis had been restless too.

  ‘Will you be OK . . . on your own?’ he asked, his tone hesitant as if he didn’t want to offend.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly.

  He looked down at her. ‘You know this has been magic for me.’

  ‘And for me.’ She swallowed hard, but she was not going to cry.

  ‘Kiss me one more time . . .’ he asked.

  ‘You’ll be late.’

  He laughed. ‘It’ll be worth it.’

  Chapter 14

  11 November 2013

  It was Monday morning, two days after Travis left, and Jo hadn’t been outside all weekend, hadn’t spoken to anyone since walking with him to Hammersmith Tube station so that he could catch the Piccadilly line train to the airport. Donna was away staying with friends, but Jo was relieved. She wasn’t ready to share her loss with anyone, not even her best friend.

  And she wasn’t bereft. She was still basking in the glow of the powerful attraction they’d been lucky enough to share. Travis seemed to be there with her still. There was no proper realization yet that she might never see him again. So she lay naked in the bed they’d shared, wrapped in the warm duvet, the faint scent of him still on the pillows, the sheets. She wandered about the house, sat for hours just staring into space, opened a book and had no idea what she’d been reading, listened to the radio and had no idea what she’d just listened to, barely aware that Travis was really gone, that it was just her now, her life waiting to be redefined for a second time in less than six months.

  It was her agent, Maggie, who broke the spell.

  ‘Just wanted to find out how it’s going . . . with the book?’

  Jo held the phone to her ear, paralysed, not knowing how to reply.

  ‘Jo?’

  ‘Hi, yes, I’m here . . . sorry.’

  ‘Did I interrupt something?’

  ‘No . . . no, it’s just . . . well, I haven’t really made much progress.’