Possibly a Love Story by Olivia Fane

Author:Olivia Fane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Olivia Fane Press
Published: 2016-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Laura watched for the anger in Hugo's face and saw it.

‘To all of us, to us happy four,’ said Hugo. His sarcasm was only noticed by his wife.

‘Let's have supper, folks!’ enthused Laura, and they followed her into the kitchen.

What followed was the kind of cosy kitchen supper commercials dream of, all beautifully lit up by the porcelain pendant light which hung over the table. Both Hugo and Laura pulled off an exemplary double-act as the perfect host and hostess: Laura managed to get all the frozen bits out of the Bolognese sauce, and the spaghetti was a perfect al dente. Jed told jokes about Hounslow West, about how the airport was built so that everyone could make a fast exit. Amy told jokes about her ex-boyfriend, about how boring he was and about how he was more like fifty than twenty. She told them how he put Brylcreem in his hair. She merrily told them about their sex life, how absurdly shy he was about his body and how he had red pubic hair. Jed laughed. Jed laughed for all of them because Hugo and Laura were giving each other looks that said, ‘Poor man, to be pilloried like this.’

‘So Jed,’ asked Hugo, ‘what line of business are you in?’

Laura had naturally assumed that Jed was unemployed but Jed met Hugo's eye and said, ‘This and that.’

‘Lucrative?’

Jed looked puzzled.

‘Does it pay well?’ Hugo clarified.

‘I know what “lucrative” fucking means,’ said Jed. ‘I just thought that was a question posh people like you didn’t ask.’

‘I’m not posh, Jed,’ said Hugo. ‘I’m just curious. What kind of line are you in?’

Jed shrugged.

‘Ah, drugs, you push drugs!’ prompted Hugo, with a little clap.

Jed didn’t even bother to reply. He told Laura she was a fucking good cook.

‘I’m not naïve. Now, Laura, as you might have noticed, is naïve.’

‘I’m happy to do what I do. No one forces me.’

‘Taxidermy! That's it, isn’t it, Jed, you stuff dead animals, don’t you?’

‘Wrong again,’ said Jed, coolly.

‘Do you have your own place in Hounslow?’ persisted Hugo, topping up each of their glasses with Chianti and stretching over towards the wine rack to get another bottle.

‘I want to move on, as it happens,’ said Jed.

‘Another homeless youngster!’ said Hugo. ‘This won’t do at all, will it, Laura? But we’ve got a great big house with bedrooms galore and if you want a room ...’

Laura looked horrified.

‘Laura, what about the room opposite Amy's? The bed's only a small double, but it's en suite. You’d like the shower.’

‘Would anyone like a yoghurt or a piece of fruit?’ asked Laura.

‘No thanks, Laura,’ said Amy, in a tone which was infuriatingly familiar.

‘No thanks,’ said Jed.

‘Here, Jed, let me take you to your room,’ said Hugo. ‘Personally it's my favourite. I think Laura decorated it with a view to entertaining her bachelor friends, isn’t that right, Laura? There's not a single speck of pink in it, not a single bloom. And the wallpaper's from France, isn’t that right, darling? Could you enlighten us?’

‘Yes,’ said Laura.

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