Page 28 of Lost in Translation
‘Sting, Elton John on his Farewell Yellow Brick Road tour and Tom Jones, to name a few. I got a couple of tickets for Elton, which will be a very special outdoor concert. Perhaps…’ Jürgen’s voice tailed off.
‘Perhaps what?’ Charlotte’s phone beeped. A text from Dom. She glanced at it quickly.Won’t be home till late again. Soz. Up to my eyes in it. Xx
‘I just wondered if you would like to come with me. It’s not really Marcus’s scene. Maybe it’s not your scene either, or… Sorry, it’s a stupid idea. Please, forget I mentioned it.’
‘That’s very kind, but—’ Charlotte imagined Dom’s reaction if she said she planned to spend an evening with another man. Mind you, in recent weeks she’d felt increasingly invisible to him, their contact limited to rushed breakfasts with the boys and an hour or two in the evenings.
‘I understand. Perhaps you could take both the tickets and go with your husband?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘I don’t think Elton is really Dom’s cup of tea. He’s more of a Radiohead and Elbow man.’ Whereas Charlotte, accompanied by Sadie, had gone to seeRocketmanat the cinema, and spontaneously applauded at the end, much to the surprise of the more reserved locals.
‘Think about it. Anyway, I’m sorry but I must go.’ Jürgen took out his wallet and again refused Charlotte’s offer to pay. ‘It’s been — what is the word — cathartic to talk to you so openly. Thank you for listening. You are an excellent listener.’
He touched Charlotte lightly on the arm, and left. She decided a quick trip to the loo was in order and made her way inside. Scanning the interior for a sign, she glanced at the window. Was that Pamela? She raised her hand to wave, but whoever it was scuttled out of view.
Chapter 23
Never hadCharlotte been happier to see her friend. Standing in the arrivals area of Geneva Airport, she scanned the doors as passengers passed through. Some struggled with heavy bags, others skipped through with hand luggage, into the waiting arms of loved ones. When Ruth appeared, Charlotte ran towards her. They squealed in unison, startling an elderly gentleman who shot them a disgruntled look.
‘I can’t believe you’re here!’ Charlotte hugged Ruth tightly, inhaling her perfume and nearly dislodging the handbag slung over her shoulder. ‘We’re going to have the best time. Dom’s out of town, the boys are away on a trip, and I have a fridge-full of food, booze and eye masks.’ For years, she and Ruth had set aside evenings for pampering: giving each other pedicures, slapping on face masks and taking silly photos. They revisited their twenties, when life seemed simpler and the need for age-repairing treatments was redundant; but it was still fun.
‘Hey, hon, so good to see you.’ Ruth hugged Charlotte back before grabbing her wheelie bag. As usual, she looked immaculate. Or did she? She wore khaki jeggings teamed with a loose-fitting cream T-shirt and ankle boots, and her naturally curly brown hair was scraped up in a loose topknot. But her face was devoid of make-up. That wassonot like Ruth. Admittedly, it had been an early flight, but—
‘Are you OK?’ Charlotte relieved Ruth of the wheelie bag and they made their way to the parking area. She found the ticket, paid at the machine, and they took the elevator to the right level.
‘I’m fine.’ Ruth climbed into the passenger seat, fumbled in her handbag, and produced a small bottle of water. ‘Just a bit dehydrated.’
Charlotte manoeuvred the car through the barrier and on to the slip road. She passed a tin of extra-strong mints to Ruth, who took it and popped one in her mouth.
The journey took under an hour and Ruth was alarmingly quiet the entire time. Normally, she’d talk non-stop about everything from politics and annoying Z-list ‘celebrities’ to diet regimes and why getting a decent bra was akin to finding the Holy Grail. Now she leaned against the window and gave staccato ‘yes’ and ‘no’ answers to everything.
Unlocking the door to the house, Charlotte wondered if she’d upset Ruth. Maybe she hadn’t kept in touch enough. They used WhatsApp to message, and FaceTime to chat, but life often got in the way. Their lives were poles apart, and they were both busy, for different reasons. No, there was something else going on. Charlotte knew it, just as she knew when the boys were unhappy or trying to keep a secret. Just as she knew when Dom had something to hide… But now was not the time to excavate that worry.
* * *
‘I knowit’s only lunchtime but what the heck, we found this amazing pink bubbly, so shall we celebrate?’ Charlotte brandished a chilled bottle to accompany the assortment of pastries, mini sandwiches and charcuterie she’d arranged on a platter. ‘I am so, so happy that my best buddy is here. I might not be fully integrated yet — and I doubt I ever will be — but I want to show you the sights. You can laugh at my crap French, eat amazing chocolate and even buy a cuckoo clock. I bloody hate them, personally, but each to their own!’
Charlotte’s sense of something off with Ruth increased when her friend quietly asked for a glass of water and said she wasn’t hungry. ‘Maybe just a couple of dry crackers, if that’s OK. Oh shit… Excuse me.’ Before Charlotte could respond, Ruth launched herself out of the kitchen.
‘It’s on the left, just by the front door,’ Charlotte called out, in no doubt what Ruth was looking for. And why she was looking for it.
Eventually Ruth reappeared, a sheen of sweat on her face, dabbing at a stain on her T-shirt. Charlotte didn’t like to think what it was, but she needed to talk to her friendright now. No more prevaricating; no more bullshit.
‘Are you pregnant?’ The words hung in the air, hovering over the untouched plate of food and the unopened bottle of fizz.
‘Yes, I am.’ Ruth looked down, twisting the hem of her top between her fingers. ‘And it’s completely and utterly shit.’
Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She’d been overjoyed with both her pregnancies, thrilled beyond belief at the knowledge that she carried a new life within her. Morning sickness was a mere blip on the rollercoaster ride to motherhood. Stretch marks were carried as a badge of honour — although she wouldn’t mind if they faded from view enough to allow her to wear bikinis again.
‘Are you sure?’ No sooner had she spoken than Charlotte wanted to claw back the idiocy of her question. Of course Ruth was sure.
‘Erm, no, I just happen to be puking constantly, my tits are ballooning and I want to cry all the time. That’s not a symptom, by the way — just my reaction when I look at the five different sticks I’ve peed on.’
‘Oh.’ Charlotte opened the fizz, anyway. She poured two glasses, took a hearty swig of hers, and placed the other in front of Ruth. ‘Can I ask who the father is?’
Ruth looked up, her eyes awash with a mixture of tears and the feisty, kick-ass attitude that made her the best friend you wanted on your team. ‘I don’t know. Which makes me a complete slut, I suppose. I know you won’t judge me, Charlotte, but you’re living the perfect life, Dom’s supposed indiscretions aside. Two gorgeous boys, money in the bank, sorted. I flit around from relationship to relationship, not thinking twice about where it’s going. Except that now I’ve royally screwed up. Officially torn between two lovers, neither of whom has a clue what’s happened. And they won’t want to know.’
‘How do you know that? Have you spoken to them?’ Charlotte pulled her chair closer to Ruth and brushed a stray strand of her friend’s hair off her face.
