Beneath the Skin(44)
‘Us? You called me a council estate chav many a time.’
‘That was before I decided you were mine, all mine. Anyway, you say you can’t remember anything.’
It’s true. There are enormous gaps in her memories of those secondary school years. Even when Sophie describes some events in detail, Antonia struggles to remember. Perhaps she was too successful in erasing that time, but it’s got to the point where it’s embarrassing.
‘I remember some stuff,’ she replies. ‘When we were older and went “upmarket”, as you like to put it.’
‘From Baa Baa to Panacea! Thank God we did. Pretty boys in the park were all very well but there comes a time when one needs men who can grow stubble. And have enough cash to pay for champagne!’
Antonia smiles and thinks again of David. She’d met him on a Saturday night at Panacea, the place to be seen in Manchester, even then. The DJ had been playing soul and rare groove, the bar buzzing with energy. Beautiful people pouted and posed and there among them, sticking out like a sore thumb, was her future husband. Big, posh and boisterous David, sitting in a booth with other suited men, ordering brandy and champagne, his blue eyes sparkling, his wallet stuffed with notes. Not her usual type at all.
‘You are absolutely stunning!’ he’d said as she’d walked past to the loos. ‘No, no, don’t walk away, you’ll break my heart. Promise me now that you’ll marry me!’
Later they’d had a slow dance but he hadn’t tried to kiss her. Instead he’d handed her a business card and she’d thought that was it, relieved, but a little disappointed too.
He’d walked away, then come back. ‘By the way, where do you live?’
She was no longer living in the council house, thank God; by then she was sharing a flat in West Didsbury with two girls from work.
‘West Didsbury …’
David had grinned. ‘I might need more clues for tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘At noon? Not too early?’
A date on a Sunday at noon. That was something new. She couldn’t help but smile.
‘Is that a yes?’
‘Yes.’
That day she does remember.
Anticipating accusations of being ‘on another planet’, she turns her attention back to Sophie. ‘You’ve just got a bigger brain than me, Soph. That’s why you remember everything.’
‘And boobs.’
‘Yes, Sophie, you always beat me on the boobs front too.’
Antonia looks at her watch. She’s stayed far longer than she intended. ‘Look at the time. I must go. David will be home from work soon and I want to make something nice for dinner.’
Sophie doesn’t move. ‘Defrost something. You must have a hundred “little delicacies” you made earlier.’ Her feet are on Antonia’s lap and she presses them down. ‘Besides, the varnish on my toenails won’t be dry yet. You don’t want to be responsible for smudges.’
‘I haven’t seen David all day. He’ll want to talk about Charlie. I’m going.’
She lifts Sophie’s heels and stands, trying not to let irritation get the better of her. They’ve had a fun afternoon, but Sophie always has to push it.
Sophie stands too. ‘Just a bit longer, Toni. You know you want to.’ She places her body next to Antonia’s, so close that they’re almost touching. Pulling back Antonia’s dark hair, she places cheek next to cheek, like a smooch, her breath warm in Antonia’s ear.
The irritation spreads, but it’s mixed with something else, a dark heat in the pit of her stomach, which Antonia recognises as lust. She’s making a pass at me, she thinks. She’s manipulating me and teasing me. She’ll do anything to get her own way. Yet the desire is still there. She supposes it always will be, her baby Achilles heel. So she remains motionless, impassive and breathless as Sophie places small kisses on her neck from her ear to her shoulder.
Sophie pulls away after a moment, falls back on to the sofa, tugging Antonia down with her. She smiles, her face indolent, smug. ‘I take it you’re willing to stay. I’m sure that David can live without you just a little while longer.’
Antonia sits back, exhales the breath she’s been holding and gazes at Sophie, wondering. Sophie’s auburn hair is still magnificent, but she makes no effort any more. She’s let herself go, and yet. What is it? Antonia muses inwardly. What is it that makes her so appealing? What is it that I want from her?
As though sensing some uncertainty in Antonia’s face, Sophie leans forward, slips her hand under Antonia’s jumper and strokes her back with soft fingertips before inching them forward.
‘No, Sophie. No.’ She gazes solidly at Sophie, seeing the girl in the centre of the photographs, in the centre of everything. It’s your vitality, your confidence, your joy of life, she decides, wondering from the flash of surprise in Sophie’s eyes whether the words have escaped.
‘I really must go now, Soph. I’ll collect you for tomorrow’s appointment, I promise.’ She kisses Sophie on the cheek and scoops up her handbag. ‘Phone me if you need me,’ she says. ‘Love you lots.’
As she indicates right for White Gables, Antonia is surprised to see David’s Land Rover in their drive. When she parks up the car next to his, she’s even more startled to see the damage to the wall. The events of this morning feel like they happened a week ago. She had such an easy few hours at Sophie’s it almost slipped her mind that she dropped David at the hospital in Macclesfield and that he went into work by train. They were in such a muddled rush to get to Charlie that she didn’t notice the garden wall or the skewed position of his car.