Mad Joy by Jane Bailey

Author:Jane Bailey [Jane Bailey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780332383
Publisher: Constable & Robinson
Published: 2011-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

It was strange driving James. I couldn’t help but recall the last time we had been in a car together, and I suspect he was thinking of it too. And of course the thought of it reminded me how little we really had in common, and how huge the gulf really was between us, and how foolish I was to have been lulled into a sense of well-being in their home.

‘You’re a remarkably good driver,’ he said, perhaps to break the silence.

‘For a woman, you mean?’

‘No. What I meant was that you’re a good driver.’

‘Well, thank you. I ought to be.’

We made small talk for a while, but the picture of him shoving me away from Beatrice kept bobbing up in my head, and I wished he would stop being so pleasant and letting himself off the hook so easily.

‘How’s Beatrice?’ I said, after a while.

‘Fine, I think.’

There seemed nothing else to say. ‘Good.’

Later I had another go: ‘You must be quite excited?’

‘Excited? Oh! About seeing Bird, you mean?’

‘No! About the wedding!’

‘Oh Lord, no! She’s been going on about it for so long I think we’re all heartily sick of it!’

I didn’t care much for his tone. I felt almost sorry for Beatrice. ‘When is it – I thought she said July?’

‘Yes …’ He waved a hand vaguely. ‘… Sometime in July, I think.’

‘You think?’

He looked at me astonished. ‘Well, who cares?’

‘Well, you should, for a start. Aren’t you planning on turning up?’

‘Frankly, no.’

I swerved slightly to miss a rabbit, and almost drove us off the road, but managed to retrieve control swiftly. ‘You bastard! Have you told her?’

‘Steady on! It’s not that important. God almighty!’

‘Not that important? Your own wedding day! How can you be so callous?’

‘My wedding day?’ He was astounded now. ‘It’s not my wedding.’ Then he chuckled. ‘You didn’t think … I was marrying … Beatrice …?’

I took a very deep breath and tried to think what to say. Once again I felt humiliated. Once again I looked an utter fool. ‘So … who’s she marrying then?’

‘God knows. Some poor bugger with lots of money and no sense, I should think.’ He could see I was shot to pieces, and tried to stop smiling. ‘She’s Celia’s friend, not mine. That’s why she was down here that Boxing Day – to take Celia back to Cirencester with her.’

I was glad I was driving: it was somewhere to look.

And then the unthinkable happened.

The truck began to slow down. I was suddenly not in control. I tried the accelerator but it didn’t work. I pretended nothing was wrong, but soon it was so obvious that James mentioned it.

‘It’s okay – it’s nothing,’ I said, as the truck slowly ground to a halt. ‘Nothing I can’t fix.’

I got out and looked under the bonnet for a while. If there was one thing I was certain of it was my ability to fix trucks. I would get it going in no time, and my competence in a man’s field would be a small victory, at least.

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