• • •
Angelica spent the morning in Harrods buying shoes for the children and picking up the uniforms she had ordered in July but forgotten all about. Efficient mothers, like Candace and Letizia, had complete winter sets in the right sizes by June, all name-taped and folded in the children’s cupboards for the beginning of the autumn term. They returned to London from the South of France or the Hamptons with nothing more than the odd haircut to organize. Angelica, on the other hand, squeezed all the back-to-school tasks into the week before term started, dragging the children around town in a fever to buy the long list of things they required. They’d return from each shopping trip armed with toys that Angelica had been too weak to deny them. Every year she cursed her lack of organization, but every year it was the same last-minute rush.
She arrived late for lunch at Candace’s, the boot of the car filled with shiny green Harrods bags. Candace lived in leafy Notting Hill, where the pavements were wide and tree lined, and shiny Mercedes and BMW four-by-fours were parked among Porsches and the odd Aston Martin. Her silver Great Dane greeted them at the door, alongside the Filipina maid in a pink-and-white uniform. Candace’s children scampered upstairs excitedly to hide, followed by Joe and Isabel, who hurried past their mother to chase after them. Candace was on the telephone in the immaculately weeded garden, lying on a sun lounger, a glass of fruit juice on the table with the October issue of American Vogue. When she saw her friend, she waved. “Isn’t this glorious!” She pushed her Dior sunglasses to the top of her head, sweeping her thick hair off her face.
“I see you’re making the most of it,” said Angelica, descending the steps to join her.
“It’ll rain tomorrow.” Candace had the sleek brown skin of her Latina mother and the pale green eyes of her father, a stunning combination that enhanced her fine features. “Come and join me. How hungry are the kids?”
“They’ve all disappeared upstairs.”
“Great, let’s lie out a little longer. They’ll come down when they want to eat.”
“Mine had doughnuts in Harrods.”
“Did you get everything done?”
“Just about.” Angelica dropped her handbag to the grass, ignoring the lip gloss that rolled out, and flopped onto the lounger beside Candace. “I spoke to Kate. She says she has a plan.”
“I wonder what that could be?” Candace laughed dismissively. “I’m not holding my breath. You do realize we’ve got nine months of this soap opera?” Candace sipped her juice. “Ringside seats.”
“Why do we all flock around her? What is it that makes her so compelling?”
“Because our lives would be dreadfully dull without her little dramas to entertain us.” Candace grinned mischievously. “Why don’t you have a little drama for a change?”
“My life is very drama free, thank God.”
“It was until last night.”
“Where it began and ended.”
“It just shows that you’re ripe for an affair.”
“Oh really, Candace, the sun has gone to your head.”
“No, I’m just putting it out there.”
“Well, pull it back in again, fast! You think I have time for an affair?”
“What? Too busy, like JFK, Lloyd George, and Clinton?”
Angelica laughed. “You think I’d risk all that I have for a fling?”
“That’s the fun of it, apparently. The risk, the excitement.”
“I prefer sitting in the audience watching Kate’s life spiraling out of control. I couldn’t live like that—it’s exhausting.”
“You’d be surprised how many women have affairs at our age. Ten years of marriage, bored of the monotonous plod, plod of their daily lives. Then some handsome, dashing stranger walks in and ignites a flame they thought had died.”
“The flame Olivier ignited all those years ago is still burning strong, I assure you.”
“I hope so. But you felt the frisson of attraction last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. But I can leave it at that. I really don’t care if I never see him again.”
“But there might be another Jack around the corner. You’re on receive. I’ll bet there have been countless Jacks in the last ten years, but you haven’t noticed them because you haven’t been on receive. It doesn’t mean you don’t love Olivier, just that you are ready for a little excitement. Just warning you to be careful.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I have the knowledge but not the experience. I just observe what goes on around me. I don’t know what it is about me, but people confide in me. Look at you. I’ll bet you haven’t told Kate, Scarlet, or Letizia about last night.”