Page 46 of Lost in Translation
‘It was OK.’ Alastair shrugged and Robson added another slice of bread to the toaster. His fourth, not that Charlotte was counting.
‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic. Didn’t you like the burritos?’ Charlotte sliced a banana over her cereal and added milk.
‘They were nice, but really messy to eat. Robson spilled half of his down his front, and Daddy wasn’t pleased.’
Nipping into the laundry room, Charlotte discovered Robson’s T-shirt on top of the dirty washing basket. A lurid red stain adorned the front, and Charlotte sighed. Would it have killed Dom to chuck it in to soak? Not that he would know the importance of Vanish, unless you counted his ability to disappear at the drop of a hat.
‘What did you do after dinner?’ Charlotte hadn’t had the chance to ask Dom herself. By the time she got back from the concert, Dom was sitting at his laptop working on spreadsheets. He’d asked how it had been, but after talking for five minutes Charlotte realised his mind was elsewhere.
‘We started watching a movie, then Robson wanted to playToy StoryKerplunk, but Daddy said he had to make a phone call and it tookages!’
‘Really? Who was he talking to?’ A prickle of doubt laced with anger coursed through Charlotte.
Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘Dunno. I think it was about work, but he went into the other room. We played the game, but it’s better with more people.’
Charlotte touched his cheek and smiled. ‘I’ll play it with you later, promise. Now finish your breakfast and get dressed. Nathaniel and Jodie will be here soon, and I’m going to make something deliciousandvegan.’
Neither of the boys looked particularly impressed at this, but Charlotte was determined to produce a lunch that satisfied all of them. She’d spent an hour on various websites and had hopefully come up with something tasty and nutritious.
‘Your phone’s ringing, Mummy.’ With the radio playing in the background, Charlotte hadn’t heard it. She dashed through to the lounge and picked it up. The caller ID showed an unknown number.
‘Hello?’ She waited, hearing heavy breathing down the line. About to hang up, Charlotte realised the caller was crying. ‘Sorry, who is this?’
Finally, someone spoke. ‘Hello, Charlotte. It’s Alicia. I … sorry, I got your number from the school directory and I just … well, I needed someone to talk to.’
Charlotte had forgotten about giving her mobile number to one of the class reps when they were compiling a list of contacts. ‘That’s fine, Alicia, but — now really isn’t a good time. The boys have friends coming over and I need to make chickpea burgers and quinoa salad.’ Charlotte felt bad using food preparation as an excuse, but she had a pile of sun-dried tomatoes and herbs to chop.
‘Oh, right.’ Alicia’s watery tone took on its more familiar haughty sound. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it—’
‘Listen, would you like to meet somewhere later on? Dom’s out now but he should be back soon, so I could escape for an hour or so.’
‘Yes, that would be good. Would you like to come to my place? Myriam, my housekeeper, is on holiday but I can fix some drinks. Do you have my address?’
Charlotte pretended to write it down. She knew exactly where Alicia lived; a waterside mansion once owned by a reclusive movie star and apparently costing in the region of 20 million Swiss francs. Sadie had been there a couple of times, and had spoken breathlessly of its infinity pool, private boat mooring and kitchen to rival a high-end restaurant.
‘OK. I’ll be there around four o’clock, and I’ll text you if there’s a problem.’ Nathaniel and Jodie were due at noon, and Dom had promised to be back within the next hour.
Returning to her domestic duties, Charlotte wondered why Alicia wanted to talk to her. Yes, she had marriage troubles and few friends, but Charlotte wasn’t sure how much help she could be. Still, she’d told Alicia she was happy to talk, and Charlotte considered herself a woman of her word.
Minutes after Nathaniel and Jodie arrived, Dom appeared, laden with electrical bits and pieces and a stack of DVDs. He eyed the platters of vegan delights with disdain, and fetched himself the makings of a ham and cheese toastie.
‘Don’t you want some, darling?’ Charlotte enquired. ‘I thought this would be right up your street after the retreat.’ She watched Dom’s face, looking for a sign that he’d been telling porkies all along. Though how he could have forged an invoice was something she couldn’t figure out.
‘It looks, erm, interesting, but I need something I can get my teeth into.’ Dom plugged in the toastie maker and slathered the sandwich with English mustard.
‘Do you know how pigs are killed?’ said Jodie, painstakingly removing the sun-dried tomatoes and lining them up at the edge of the plate. ‘They—’
‘I don’t think that’s really a conversation for the lunch table,’ interjected Charlotte, aware of Alastair, Robson and Nathaniel gawping in fascination. ‘Now, who’s for a second burger?’
Leaving the children to it — and hoping Jodie wouldn’t give a blow-by-blow account of gruesome animal slaughter methods — Charlotte followed Dom into the small office.
‘You’re home for the day now, I assume?’
Dom bit into his toastie, a string of melted cheese dripping onto his chin. He chewed, swallowed, and gave a non-committal shrug. ‘Probably. How long are the minions hanging around for?’
‘Till around three thirty. I’m going to visit a friend at four, so I need you here for Alastair and Robson. I promised I’d play a game with them; the one you didn’t play because you were busy on the phone.’
Dom put his toastie down and wiped his mouth. ‘I was talking to my mum, Charlotte. I thought I’d better explain the misunderstanding about where I was meant to be. Your tone is rather aggressive, don’t you think? I hope you’re not suggesting—’
