I hold my breath, hoping no one will suggest that if we wait, we’ll be able to take Millie along too.
‘Tomasin?’ Rufus raises his eyebrows.‘I heard something about that. Is his wife one of your clients?’
‘Yes, she is.’
‘Dena Anderson,’ he muses. ‘That must be an interesting case.’
‘It is,’ Jack agrees. He turns to me.‘Darling, if everyone’s finished, why don’t you show Esther the photos of our last holiday in Thailand?’
My heart sinks.‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to see our holiday snaps,’ I say, keeping my voice purposefully light. But even that slight suggestion of discord between the two of us is enough for Esther.
‘I would love to see them!’ she exclaims.
Jack pushes his chair back and stands up. He takes the photo album from the drawer and hands it to Esther. ‘Then Grace and I will make coffee while you look at the photographs.Why don’t you go through to the sitting room – you’ll be more comfortable there.’
By the time we come back from the kitchen with a tray of coffee, Diane is exclaiming over the photos, although Esther doesn’t say much.
I have to admit that the photos are stunning and, in those where I can be seen, I am shown to my advantage: beautifully tanned, as slim as I was in my twenties, and wearing one of my many bikinis. In most of the photos, I’m standing in front of a luxurious hotel, or lying on its private beach, or sitting in a bar or restaurant with a colourful cocktail and a plate of exotic food in front of me. In each one I am smiling up at the camera, the epitome of a relaxed and pampered woman very much in love with her husband. Jack is something of a perfectionist when it comes to taking photographs and takes the same shot over and over again until he is happy with the result, so I have learnt to get it right the first time. There are also some photographs of the two of us, taken by amenable strangers. It is Diane who points out teasingly that in those photographs, Jack and I are often gazing adoringly at each other rather than at the camera.
Jack pours the coffee.
‘Would anyone like a chocolate?’ I ask, reaching as casually as I can for the box that Esther brought.
‘I’m sure we’ve all had quite enough to eat,’ Jack suggests, looking around at everyone for confirmation.
‘Definitely,’ says Rufus.
‘I couldn’t eat another thing,’ Adam groans.
‘Then I’ll put them away for another day.’ Jack holds his hand out for the box and I’m just resigning myself to never tasting them when Diane comes to the rescue.
‘Don’t you dare – I’m sure I can fit in a chocolate or two.’
‘I suppose there’s no point mentioning your bikini,’ Adam sighs, shaking his head in mock despair at his wife.
‘Absolutely no point at all,’ Diane agrees, taking a chocolate from the box Jack has handed her and passing it to me. I take one, pop it in my mouth and offer the box to Esther. When she declines to take one, I take another before passing the box back to Diane.
‘How do you do it?’ Diane asks, looking at me in wonder.
‘Sorry?’
‘Eat so much and never put on weight.’
‘Luck,’ I say, reaching over and taking another chocolate. ‘And control.’
It’s only when the clock strikes half-twelve that Esther suggests making a move. In the hall, Jack hands out the coats and, while he helps Diane and Esther on with theirs, I agree to meet them in town the following Friday at ‘Chez Louis’ for lunch at twelve-thirty. Diane hugs me goodbye and when I shake Esther’s hand I tell her that I’m looking forward to seeing her again at the lunch.The men kiss me goodbye and, as they leave, everybody thanks us for a perfect evening. In fact, there are so many ‘perfects’ ringing round the hall as Jack closes the door behind them that I know I’ve triumphed. But I need to make sure that Jack knows I have.
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B. A. Paris, Bring Me Back
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