“I have to get changed,” she said, quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear.
“Not on my account,” said Carl, who’d overheard despite her efforts. “I prefer you like this.”
Bella half laughed. She scurried for the door and the stairs, horribly conscious of Carl’s gaze on her tiny, sexy shorts.
It was almost eleven o’clock but the pub at the end of the road was still crowded. It was barely dark, the air still thick and sultry from the day’s heat. The three of them squeezed onto the end of a trestle table whilst Carl queued for the drinks. Cigarette smoke drifted across the table in a long, wavering blue scarf. Jake waved it away. Veronica smiled and lit a cigarette of her own.
“Have you two got any holiday plans?” she asked.
Bella looked quickly across at Jake, unsure of what to say. Did they?
“Not really,” said Jake. He shifted position on the wooden bench. “Not as such.”
“Carl and I are going to Venice.”
“Really?” Jake’s eyebrows went up. “When? Why Venice?”
“Not sure yet. Probably at the end of August.”
“It’ll be really crowded. Isn’t that the height of the tourist season?”
“Probably.” Veronica sounded bored. She tipped her head back, stretching her long neck. “It’ll still be good to get away. I’m tired of London. I’m sick of it.”
“You know what Doctor Johnson said about that.” Bella surprised herself by speaking. The two of them, Jake and Veronica turned to her and she hesitated a little at the sight of their expectant faces. It’s okay, she thought to herself. Don’t be intimidated.
“What?”
Jake asked it but softly. Encouraged, Bella went on.
“’When a man is tired of London, he’s tired of life.’”
Veronica laughed. “That’s good. I’ve never heard that before.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Bella smiled. “So, is that what you are?”
“What?”
“Tired of life?”
The smile fell from Veronica’s face.
“I – well, I – “
“Of course you’re not.”
Carl crashed a tray of drinks down on the table. Veronica looked up at him, frowning briefly.
“I’ve got an alternative aphorism for you. A modern day version. When a man is tired of London, he’s tired of being shat on from a great height, and ripped off for every penny he owns, every day of his life.”
“That’s not quite so catchy,” Bella said carefully.
Carl laughed.
“Too right. Come on, enough philosophising. Drink instead – it’s better for you.”
They did as they were told and for a moment, there was silence around the table. Laughter rose in a gust from the door of the pub.
“I read the other day that Doctor Johnson was mentally ill,” said Jake.
The others looked at him.
“That is by far and away the dullest thing you’ve ever said, Jake, and by God, that’s up against some stiff competition.”
Jake flicked beer at his brother.
“You probably don’t even know who Doctor Johnson is, do you Carl?”
“Of course I do. He’s Robbie Coltrane.”
“What?”
“You know, in Blackadder. Wasn’t that supposed to be Samuel Johnson?”
“And what else?”
“What?”
“What else is Doctor Johnson famous for, apart from being Robbie Coltrane?”
Carl looked at his brother and smiled a little.
“Stop showing off, Jake. It’s me who patronises you, remember?”
There was a moment’s silence and Bella watched as Jake’s face contracted in momentary anger. She held her breath, ready for his response.
“Don’t fight.” Veronica said it softly, casually, but the two men both took notice. The hackles went down, the bared teeth were covered. Bella sighed inwardly, wanting a little, just a little, of Veronica’s power.
“We need to have a party,” said Veronica.
Jake flinched. Bella stared at him.
“What do you mean?” he said.
Veronica smiled.
“I mean, we should have a meal or something. Something to welcome Bella into the house. Christ, she’s been here for a couple of months. Don’t you think that would be a good idea? Bella? Jake? Carl?
Bella smiled, fighting down her excitement.
“That would be great.”
The four of them walked back through the rapidly cooling night air, each couple holding hands. Back inside the house, Carl and Veronica turned into the lounge. Bella waited to see what Jake would do. He hesitated and then followed them. Bella hovered for a moment and then gave into the demands of her full bladder.
“Be back in a sec,” she whispered to Jake as he was turning away. She wasn’t sure he’d heard but she left him anyway, running lightly up the stairs to the first floor bathroom.
Relieved, she made her way back down more slowly, walking quietly, having kicked off her shoes. She put a hand out to the door of the lounge that stood just ajar and then stopped dead at the sound of the loud, angry voices within. Bella struggled with herself for a moment – took her hand away and took a step back - and then gave into temptation, moving closer to the door. She stood there holding her breath and straining her ears to hear what Carl and Jake were saying.
"You should have asked me. You should have asked us."
”Don't give me that." Jake's voice was harsher than she'd ever heard it. "How much asking did you do when V moved in here? Hey? Did you even bother to mention it to me before she turned up on the doorstep with all her bags packed?"
Carl laughed. "I didn't hear you complaining. You couldn't get her in the house quick enough."
"Fuck off."
Bella took a quick gasp of air in the moment of silence that followed.
"It's not good enough, Jake. You know what we said. It's only the three of us that need to be here, you know that."
"Yeah, well, that was something you decided for all of us, wasn't it?"
"What?"
"You heard me. You just went ahead and decided it for us, just like you decided everything else about that night -"
"Shut your mouth."
Carl said it slowly and distinctly. Bella found herself with one hand up to her mouth, biting her finger.
She heard Jake start to say something before Carl cut across him.
"This isn't it, Jake. This is not finished. But this isn't the time or the place to talk about it now. But I want you to know – no, shut up – I want you to know that this isn’t finished.”
There was another long beat of silence. Bella leaned forward, straining to hear something – anything. Then, at the sudden sound of footsteps approaching the door, she jumped and scurried back, skidding on the slippery tiled floor. She grabbed frantically at the banister and managed to right herself. As the door opened, she fled into the kitchen and began to open cupboard doors and bang tins about in the hope that they would think she’d been there all the time.
Chapter Eight
Bella opened her eyes to morning light. She stretched, wincing a little at the ache in her inner thighs. Involuntarily, she glanced over at Jake, cocooned in the duvet beside her, and put her arm around his waist, curling herself into his warm back.
"Morning," he said. She hadn't realised he was awake.
"Morning honey." She squeezed him gently. "You okay? You were thrashing around again last night. What on earth were you dreaming?"
Jake sighed. "I can't remember. Sorry if I woke you."
"Doesn't matter." She squeezed him again.
They lay for a moment in silence, Bella savouring the thought of the day to come. A beautiful sunny day, a whole long, luscious Sunday stretching in front of them. Perhaps they'd go for a walk on the Heath... perhaps Sunday lunch at The Vine? Not even the thought of her working day tomorrow could spoil the anticipation.