Page 14 of The Do-Over

‘Of course. Don’t wolf them down though; take your time. I don’t want you being sick on this expensive-looking carpet.’

‘Sorry about that,’ she says as Rollo crosses the room towards the buffet. ‘I do try to protect him from the worst of it, but I can’t always help myself.’ She lowers her voice conspiratorially. ‘The truth is, I’m glad the fucker’s dead. That makes me sound like an awful person, I know, but I can’t help how I feel.’

Before I have a chance to even formulate an answer, we’re interrupted.

‘Rebecca, darling, there you are. Where’s dear Rollo?’ I turn and come face to face with John’s wife. Today just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

‘Sorry, how rude of me,’ she says seamlessly. ‘I don’t think we’ve met except in the receiving line just now. I’m Alice, John’s widow.’

‘Thea. Junior partner,’ I reply.

‘Thea lives on the same road as me,’ Rebecca explains as Alice puts an arm around her and gives her a squeeze.

‘Really? What a small world. I’m so glad you’ve got someone to talk to, though. I was worried you’d be bored with all these stuffy lawyers.’

‘I sent Rollo over to investigate the buffet table,’ Rebecca tells Alice. ‘Thea was asking about our situation, and there are some things he’s not ready to hear yet.’

‘Quite right. Poor boy can’t help who his father is, can he? Still, now John’s dead, we can set about putting things right for both of you. Oh, heavens, I can see Martin the terminally dull trying to catch my eye. I’d better go and play the dutiful grieving wife.’

I’m starting to feel like I’ve slipped through a portal into a parallel universe. The longer I spend in this room, the less sense the world makes.

‘I don’t think you were meant to hear that,’ Rebecca says with a smile. ‘She’s doing a terrific job, but underneath it all I think she’s as glad to be rid of him as I am. Are you going home after this?’

‘I probably ought to go back to the office.’

She grimaces. ‘That’s whatheused to say. The way he talked, it was like the world would end if he wasn’t at his desk. He thought he was so bloody important, but what will his legacy be, hmm? He’s not going to get a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame because he helped fat cat business A buy wanker business B. All those hours, all those late nights, all that money, and all that’s left of him are an indifferent wife, two legitimate grown-up children who barely knew him, an ex-mistress that hateshim and an illegitimate son who hopefully won’t remember him. As far as his oh-so-precious fucking job is concerned, it’s like dropping a pin into a pond. It shines for a moment, but doesn’t even cause a ripple as the water closes over it and it’s forgotten. Sorry, I probably oughtn’t to be saying this to you. Champagne always makes me indiscreet. I’d better grab Rollo and head off before I make a tit of myself.’

As she turns to look for her son, something rebellious stirs in me. Before I have a chance to second-guess myself, I touch her on the arm.

‘Sod the office. I’ve got some wine in the fridge if you fancy coming over.’

She smiles widely. ‘Deal. I’ll even leave you a parking space.’

8

In the end, we agree to meet at Rebecca’s house at 9p.m., to give her a chance to bathe Rollo and get him settled in bed. I feel a little anxious as I ring her doorbell, a bottle of Chablis tucked under my arm. What if this afternoon’s ceasefire was only temporary?

‘Thea, bang on time.’ She smiles as she opens the door. ‘Come on in. I’m just settling Rollo. He’s exhausted but refusing to admit it. Go through to the living room and I’ll be with you in a moment.’

Rebecca’s house is laid out exactly how mine was before I did the renovations, so I don’t need directions. Where my house was tired and shabby, however, hers is homely and she obviously loves bright colours. Although the walls are painted in neutral shades, the artwork on the walls bursts with colour, as do the cushions on the sofa.

The sofa. Where John’s wife Alice is sitting, swirling a glass of wine the size of a goldfish bowl. Her eyes are slightly glazed, and I suspect this isn’t the first glass.

‘Thea, isn’t it?’ she says, slurring her words slightly. ‘Nice to see you. Help yourself to a drink.’ She waves in the directionof a table in the corner, where an expensive-looking bottle is standing in a wine cooler.

‘It’s from John’s cellar,’ she tells me as I pour myself a small glass. ‘It seemed appropriate. Oh, for God’s sake pour a proper measure,’ she scolds as I turn around. ‘Keep me company.’

I top up my glass and settle next to her on the sofa. I’m burning with curiosity about her friendship with Rebecca, but can’t quite find the words to ask her about it without sounding intrusive.

‘It’s OK,’ Alice tells me after a moment. ‘You can ask. I won’t be offended.’

‘Ask what?’

‘How I can bear to be in the presence of my husband’s mistress without slapping her.’

‘That wasn’t quite the question.’

‘I’m close though, aren’t I?’

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