Page 30 of Lost in Translation
‘OK, OK.’ Sadie held her hands up in a calming gesture. ‘Blimey, why didn’t you tell us before?’
‘It’s embarrassing. And I didn’t want you confronting him and causing a scene. I’m only telling you now because—’ Again, Pamela’s gaze fell directly on Charlotte.
Charlotte squirmed in her chair, praying Sadie wouldn’t pick up on the hostile vibes firing across the table. ‘I’m so sorry, Pamela, that must have been horrible.’ Charlotte wanted to leg it out of the café. Go home and do something mind-numbing yet soothing, like bake brownies or iron crumpled bedlinen. Anything to avoid thinking of Jürgen lunging towards Pamela. Howcouldhe?
‘You’re telling us now, because—’ Sadie prompted. Charlotte made a show of looking for something in her handbag. Preferably an invisibility cloak or a device to zap her far away from the café.
‘I wanted to warn you about him. Both of you, seeing as you think the sun shines out of his Armani-clad arse. But don’t you dare say anything to him!’
Charlotte wondered how Pamela knew which designer label Jürgen wore. She didn’t doubt it was expensive, but wouldn’t know the difference herself. Dom had two or three fancy suits they’d picked up on a trip to Milan, but from a factory outlet.
‘Don’t worry, we won’t.’ Sadie patted Pamela’s arm. Charlotte nodded in agreement, although her instinct was to confront Jürgen and find out exactly what had happened, straight from the horse’s mouth. He’d probably deny any wrongdoing, which either meant he’d done nothing wrong, or he was a womanising liar.
‘Sorry, Pamela. I’ve got to run,’ said Sadie. ‘I’ve got an emergency appointment to get my roots done. Luckily Veronique could fit me in at short notice, otherwise I’d be resorting to a bag over my head.’ Blowing kisses in all directions — including the old man, who looked like he’d won the lottery — Sadie dashed out. Charlotte stood too, reluctant to stay with Pamela.
‘Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.’ Pamela shrugged on her coat, a heavy one despite the warmth of the day. ‘You’ve got a fabulous husband and two lovely boys. The last thing you need is some creep who thinks he’s God’s gift destroying all of that.’
She headed out the door, leaving Charlotte unsure what, or who, to believe.
Chapter 25
For the past two weeks,Charlotte had tried to chat to Ruth every day. It wasn’t always possible, as her friend continued to work crazy hours and Charlotte didn’t want Dom or the boys overhearing their conversations in the evenings. At Ruth’s request, she hadn’t told Dom about the pregnancy.
The few days they’d spent together had been fun, but the spectre of Ruth’s predicament had hung over them like a lowering cloud. They agreed not to talk about it all the time and focus instead on pleasant things, such as a trip to Gruyères to see the mediaeval castle and the bizarre museum and café dedicated to the late H. R. Giger, designer of the weird and terrifying creatures in theAlienmovies. They’d also visited the cheese factory, but a whiff of the stuff made Ruth turn green and rush outside.
Sadie had given Charlotte two guest passes for the Montreux Palace gym and spa. As a member herself, she joined them for a lazy afternoon lounging by the pool and sweating in the sauna. She’d got on well with Ruth, the three of them roaring with laughter at the ‘energetic soup’ on the lunch menu.
‘Does it sprint in here of its own accord?’ said Sadie. ‘That sounds far too healthy for me. I can heartily recommend the club sandwich with a side of fries — which I’ll get next time I come and torture myself at a circuit class!’
On Ruth’s final evening in Switzerland, both Alastair and Robson returned from their trip. They were exhausted, but bursting with tales of their camping exploits. Dom was due to return too, but had called earlier to say he’d be staying in Zurich an extra night.
‘Still trouble in paradise?’ Ruth had asked when Charlotte banged down the phone with unnecessary force. Charlotte had shared a little of her ongoing concern about Dom, but felt Ruth’s dilemma was a far greater worry. And if she were honest, spending Ruth’s last evening having a simple dinner with the boys and a few more hours to chat suited her better than having Dom around.
They’d both sobbed at the train station the next morning. Ruth was adamant she preferred to take public transport rather than risk vomiting in Charlotte’s car. She still hadn’t said for sure what she planned to do, and her decision — or lack of one — made Charlotte feel sick too.
‘You really need to tell the two men,’ she’d said, as they huddled together on the platform. ‘Whatever you decide, they have a right to know.’
During their last chat, Ruth had finally revealed the identities of the two candidates: Will, a fitness instructor who specialised in home visits, and Simon, a dermatologist. ‘And before you ask, I didn’t get to know either of them through their professional lives,’ she said. ‘You know my allergy to exercise, and I haven’t been bothered by eczema since my mid-twenties.’
She’d bumped into Will at a drinks party hosted by a mutual friend. He’d tried to persuade her to sign up for a six-week personal training course — twenty per cent discount to celebrate his third year in business — and she’d feigned indignation. ‘I told him it was bloody rude to imply that I needed to contort myself into horrible positions and get disgustingly sweaty. Which is what we ended up doing a few nights later, although the positions were rather lovely.’
Charlotte had mock-tutted, Ruth a picture of put-on innocence. ‘And Simon? Is he an itch you couldn’t help scratching?’
It turned out Simon’s sister, Cara, was a regular customer at Ruth’s boutique. He’d arrived there one day to collect her for lunch. Cara had asked Ruth to join them, with Ruth happily shutting up shop early. Cara had then dashed off after an hour to collect her poorly toddler from nursery. Lunch had stretched into late afternoon, and by seven pm Ruth and Simon were at his swanky bachelor pad admiring the view from his balcony and of each other.
‘If you’d just stick to one bloody man at a time, life would be a lot simpler,’ Charlotte had remonstrated. Not for the first time, but she didn’t sit in judgement of her best friend. She knew that Ruth never lied to her partners and didn’t pretend to want exclusive relationships. If a man so much as hinted that he expected to have her all to himself, she ended it immediately.
‘Well, I’ve never been one for choosing the simple route,’ replied Ruth. Except now she was caught between a rock and a hard place. She’d never be footloose and fancy free again if she went ahead with the pregnancy, but the alternative was too awful for Charlotte to contemplate.
‘The thing is,’ Ruth continued, then halted abruptly. She disappeared briefly from the screen, before popping up again. ‘Sorry, just needed to grab some chocolate. Full-on 70 per cent dark stuff is one of the few things I can stomach. That, and sardines on toast, believe it or not!’
‘What’s the thing?’ asked Charlotte. Ruth was looking downright sheepish, and not just because she was chewing fervently.
‘Well, for the first time I can remember, I wondered if, just maybe, Simon might be more of a … a keeper. Don’t give me that look, Charlotte!’
After much prodding, Ruth admitted to having stronger feelings for the dashing dermatologist than the squats and sit-ups expert. ‘I’m not saying I’m in love with him, or anything like that. It’s more like — I dunno — there’s a connection I’ve never really felt before.’
Ruth said she’d cut ties with both men shortly after discovering she was pregnant. ‘Will didn’t seem that bothered, to be honest. I kind of suspect he has a string of lithe lovelies willing to step into my shoes. But Simon took it quite badly, even although I assured him it was me, not him.’
