Page 47 of Lost in Translation
Charlotte turned on her heel and marched out.Misunderstanding?More like outright lie. She toyed with ringing Jean to check if the alleged conversation had taken place, then dismissed it immediately. She’d only be digging a deeper hole for herself. Unless she told Jean how her darling Dominic had created an elaborate cover story, although a quick check of his dirty laundry had revealed a selection of gym kit.
Back in the kitchen, Charlotte stacked up the plates and loaded the dishwasher. To Robson’s delight she suggested playing Kerplunk, and he dashed off to fetch the game.
‘That was delicious, Mrs Egerton,’ said Jodie sweetly. ‘Perhaps you could incorporate more vegan meals into your diet, to see if you’re ready to embrace it fully.’
Good God, how old was this child? Charlotte suspected her mother — a wiry woman with a penchant for ponchos and sweeping skirts — drilled Jodie daily on the merits of a plant-based existence. Not that there was anything wrong with being vegan or vegetarian or pescatarian or any other –arians that existed. Each to their own, and all that.
As the five of them settled down to play, the dishwasher groaned in the background like a mournful cow. Charlotte rolled the dice, took hold of a stick, and pulled.
Chapter 39
‘Come in,please. If you could leave your shoes at the door, there are indoor slippers to wear.’
Alicia pointed at a wall-hung collection of pink, cream and black slippers. Charlotte looked down at her sensible footwear, slip-on Skechers that were more comfortable than stylish. She hadn’t trodden in any mud or cowpats en route to Alicia’s, but she knew some people had a thing about shoes being worn indoors.
‘Let’s go out to the terrace,’ said Alicia. Charlotte followed her through the enormous marble-floored hallway, complete with a chandelier that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the set ofThe Phantom of the Opera.Fresh flowers adorned wrought-iron tables and imposing modern art covered most of the walls.
‘You have a beautiful home,’ said Charlotte, as they passed through a lounge roughly the size of the ground floor of her rented house. What struck her, however, was how minimalist and stark everything was, in contrast to the homeliness she favoured. Not a cushion was out of place, there were no family photographs and every surface gleamed.
The terrace was a sprawling affair, with the pool sparkling in the sun and a jacuzzi off to the side. Alicia gestured to a set of rattan chairs grouped around a glass table bearing a jug of something yellow garnished with fruit, and a platter of canapés.
‘I made us mimosas, but not too heavy on the wine.’ Alicia filled two glasses and handed one to Charlotte. ‘I’ve been trying not to drink too much since Derek left, but sometimes you need something to take the edge off.’
Charlotte sat down, the charcoal-grey cushion almost swallowing her whole. She shuffled forward, anxious not to spill her drink.
‘I do appreciate you making time to come and see me. I know I’m not the easiest person in the world to get along with, but I can see you have a kind heart.’ Alicia toasted Charlotte before downing half her drink in one gulp.
‘Oh, I’m no candidate for a sainthood,’ replied Charlotte. ‘Believe me, I have a dark side too.’
Alicia proffered the plate and Charlotte took a blini topped with smoked salmon, sour cream and chives. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ she said. ‘It’s just that some are more able to disguise it than others. I’m afraid my directness doesn’t encourage friendship, but I’ve been content to live in my perfect little bubble. Until Derek decided to pop it, of course.’
‘Has he been back? I mean, since he left.’ Charlotte bit into the blini, balancing a napkin on her knees in case of spillage.
Alicia stretched out her long, tanned legs, wiggling a perfectly manicured foot. ‘Oh, yes. He called to check I’d be out, then cleared out most of his personal stuff. Mind you, there’s still a state-of-the-art recording studio in the basement, not to mention all the artwork and sculptures he’s accumulated over the years.’
‘Are you going to sell the house? It must be difficult staying here now that Derek’s gone.’ Charlotte was itching to see the rest of the place, but didn’t feel she could ask for a guided tour. She recalled Sadie saying that it had at least ten bedrooms — all en suite — and a gym, guest quarters, and home cinema.
‘Absolutely not! This is my home and I have no intention of going anywhere, at least for now. Derek has more than enough money to buy somewhere else for himself and lover boy. I believe they’re currently shacked up somewhere near Geneva, not that I give a hoot.’
Charlotte pushed down the anxiety that always kicked in when she thought of splitting up with Dom. Without millions in the bank, they’d have no choice but to divide up their assets.Don’t go there,she urged herself.
One mimosa down, Charlotte reluctantly declined a top-up. She still wasn’t sure why Alicia had invited her. Perhaps she just needed a friendly ear, although she seemed very calm about the situation. So what had prompted the tears on the phone earlier?
‘Erm, can I use your loo, please?’ Charlotte’s bladder was protesting at the drink she’d just finished, on top of several cups of coffee at home.
‘Of course. It’s this way.’ Alicia led her back into the house and pointed to a glossy white door with a jewelled handle. ‘I’ll just check on Jennifer. She’s supposed to be practising ballet, but I suspect she’s glued to one of those awful reality shows.’
The opulence of the bathroom took Charlotte’s breath away. Gold taps, flecked marble tiles and a toilet like nothing she’d ever seen before. It had a panel at the side with several buttons, and she wondered if it played music or rated the quality of your bowel movements. Tentatively sitting down and doing her business, Charlotte pushed one of the buttons and squealed as a jet of water caressed her nether regions. Crikey! She tried another, and warm air circulated around her bottom. Which, come to think of it, was also on the unusually warm side. A heated seat!
Back on the terrace, Charlotte helped herself to a breaded shrimp and wandered over to the edge of the pool. It looked so inviting that for a brief moment she wished she could dive in. Not fully clothed, of course, and she wasn’t about to strip down to her mismatched undies.
Alicia joined Charlotte by the pool, her eyes red and her voice hoarse. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Jennifer was, as predicted, holed up in her room watching dreadful people screaming at each other. How shows like that pass for entertainment is beyond me.’ She took a hankie — a cotton one, not paper — from her pocket and honked loudly into it. Charlotte couldn’t have been more surprised if Alicia had performed an impromptu headstand.
‘Are you upset with Jennifer?’ she asked. Charlotte didn’t know the girl, only that she was in her early teens and had a reputation for being wild. Whatever that meant these days. Perhaps her parents’ unorthodox relationship had caused her to rebel, smoking behind the bike sheds and sharing illicit alcopops with friends.
‘You could say that.’ Alicia honked again, then stuffed the hankie back in her pocket. ‘She’s adamant she wants to live with her father andthatman, which is absolutely not going to happen.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Charlotte ineffectually. She’d bet anything that the boys would want to stay with her if the worst ever happened. Not that they were mummy’s boys, but they were measurably closer to Charlotte. Dom took them for the odd kickaround and trip to the swimming pool, but Charlotte mopped up the tears, administered the hugs and would give up her life for them.
