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Errors of Judgment(89)

By:Caro Fraser


‘Mum, I can’t safely get within two feet of great-uncle Sidney. If farting was an Olympic event, he’d be bagging gold for Britain.’

‘Well, he’s had his problems. Cora told you at lunch.’

‘Yeah, how delightful was that?’ Barry opened the fridge. ‘You won’t be wanting these lagers, will you? Mind if I take them?’

‘Go ahead,’ sighed Judith. ‘Are you two seeing anything of your dad over the holidays?’

‘I haven’t heard from him,’ said Barry.

‘He said he was coming over, that he’d be in touch. Must have changed his mind.’

‘Oh, well …’ Judith folded a tea towel. ‘Thanks for coming – and for the lovely presents.’

‘No problem, Mum. Lunch was great.’ Barry gave his mother a kiss.

‘Yes, thanks, Mum. Sorry I have to go so early. It’s just I told Gabrielle—’

‘Don’t worry. You get off. Don’t forget to say bye-bye to Cora and Sidney.’

Out in the cold of the quiet street, Barry asked Anthony, ‘What did you get Mum?’

‘A voucher for a day at some spa in the West End. It’s the kind of thing she’d never buy for herself. What about you?’

‘Egg timer. She said she needed a new one.’ He caught Anthony’s look. ‘What? I just don’t happen to be loaded like you.’

The remark gave Anthony a momentary pang. He’d recently been shocked to discover how little was left in his current account, the day after he’d spent eight hundred pounds on a bracelet for Gabrielle. That was the trouble with splashing out hundreds – even the odd thousand – at casinos. You got used to dealing in big figures, even when it came to things like Christmas presents for your girlfriend. Still, there were quite a few outstanding fees that he would get Henry to chase up in the New Year, and a couple of decent wins at the tables could easily set things to rights, if his luck would just turn. Which it had to. No need to worry.

‘Need a lift?’ asked Anthony.

‘Depends where you’re going.’

‘South Ken.’

Barry shook his head. ‘It’s OK. I’m heading to Deptford to see some mates. I’ll catch a bus.’ They paused on the street corner. ‘By the way, I’m compering a gig at a club in Greenwich at New Year, if you fancy coming along. Bring your girlfriend.’

‘Yeah, could be fun. Email me.’

Anthony left Barry to wait for his bus and headed to where his car was parked. It was a BMW Z4, and he had bought it just three weeks ago, when he was still flush with the giddy sensation of having banked a hundred and ten thousand pounds from one single case. Its purchase had given him immense pleasure at the time. Now, as he pressed the remote through his coat pocket and heard the expensive slitch of the central system unlocking, he felt a faint sickness at the thought of having spent so much on a car. It’s not like you’re Leo, he told himself. But Leo was who he so badly wanted to be. Successful, in demand, work flooding in, plenty of spare cash to spend on the good things in life. He wanted to feel that everything was fine, that he was entitled to be behaving as he was.

He stopped by the car and drew in a long, deep breath of frosty air, wishing that he could just drive to Oxfordshire, to Leo’s house, and find him there with a welcoming glass of whisky, ready to listen to it all and understand and help him. But in the place he was, he felt he couldn’t reach out to anyone. He opened the car, its interior fragrant with the faintly sickly smell of new leather, and drove through the quiet streets to meet Gabrielle’s parents.

It was almost half five. Leo and Oliver had spent the last half-hour on the rug in front of the fire building a football stadium out of Lego. Rachel came into the living room carrying a tray with mugs of coffee for herself and Leo, and a glass of juice for Oliver.

Leo got up, and Oliver rolled over onto his back. ‘Mummy, can I eat my Smarties and watch my Wall-E DVD now?’

‘OK. You know where it is?’

Oliver nodded, fetched his DVD and put it on, then sat down cross-legged on the rug with a giant tube of Smarties from his Christmas stocking. Rachel curled up in a corner of the sofa and Leo sat down next to her. ‘What’s Wally?’

‘Wall-E,’ corrected Rachel. ‘It’s a film about a robot. It’s really pretty good. You should watch it.’ She sipped her coffee and added, ‘You don’t have to go, you know. You could always stay and meet Simon.’

Oliver had started to talk about Simon over lunch. Later, during a walk in the park, while Oliver was busy cracking ice at the pond’s edge, Rachel had filled in the details.