Читать книгу The Naughty Girls Book Club - Sophie Hart - Страница 9

Sue moved her hands over the rails of clothing, luxuriating in the feel of the different fabrics beneath her fingertips. There were silk blouses in bold jewel colours; crisply pressed cotton shirts in formal whites and baby blues; and cashmere sweaters in pale pastel shades.

In spite of the fact that spring had not yet fully sprung, the shops were already stocking their summer collections, ready for when the days lengthened and the temperature rose. Sue glanced covetously at the rows of beautiful dresses: delicate floral prints in sheerest chiffon, long maxi-dresses with jewelled necklines. She watched as a woman picked one up and held it against herself, checking out her reflection in a nearby mirror.

How lovely to be young and pretty and choosing your new wardrobe, Sue thought with a stab of envy. She picked out a blouse and held it up to the light, admiring the pattern of tiny black swallows against the cream-coloured fabric.

But what was the point anymore? Sue wondered sadly, putting it back and walking hastily away.

She caught the escalator back down to the ground floor, weaving her way through the perfume hall where a sales assistant wearing too much make-up tried to spray her with the latest celebrity fragrance. Sue politely declined, drifting over to the Chanel counter and wondering if she should splash out on a bottle of perfume. Perhaps Chanel No. 19 – she’d always loved that one. It had been her favourite when she was younger, when she and her husband, George, were first courting. But how could she justify it now? George would say she was being frivolous, frittering away their pension money on luxuries she didn’t need.

Before she could be tempted by anything else, Sue walked briskly towards the exit signs, leaving the department store and heading out onto the street. For a moment, she was shocked by how quiet it was, but then she realised it was Tuesday morning – hardly prime shopping time. Most people were in work right now, she reminded herself. Not everyone was retired, like she was.

She checked her watch to find it was almost 11.30 a.m. The afternoon seemed to stretch out in front of her, yawning and empty without anything to fill it. What on earth was she going to do with the rest of the day?

Since Sue had retired three months ago, she’d encountered this problem on a regular basis. At first, she’d been looking forward to it, eagerly planning all the things she would do with her new-found freedom – travel, read, try out new recipes, perhaps take up yoga or learn a new language. After all, there were evening classes in practically everything at the local college, and she would be spoilt for choice. But somehow, it hadn’t quite worked out that way.

The long, lazy lie-ins that Sue had envisaged had never happened. Her body clock still woke her at seven a.m. each day, and while George slept on beside her, she would rise quietly to make a start on cleaning the house – she couldn’t help herself. Without fail, she would blow-dry her hair and apply a little make-up, worrying that if she let her standards slide now, she might never get them back. It would be the start of a long slow descent into slobbing out and not caring about how she looked, like one of those people on The Jeremy Kyle Show.

This morning, Sue had decided to treat herself to a shopping trip. She’d come into Bristol city centre with the aim of spending a leisurely, indulgent few hours browsing the new season fashions. It was something she used to love doing, and something she never quite had the time for when she was working. This morning’s trip, however, had only depressed her even more. Why bother buying nice clothes if you never had occasion to wear them? She could hardly sport a fitted pencil skirt to do the vacuuming, or a smart tailored suit to do the washing up.

Maybe she should go food shopping instead. Yes, that might solve the problem. She could plan an elaborate menu for this evening’s meal and spend a good chunk of the afternoon preparing it, then she could—

‘Sue?’ a voice called. ‘I thought it was you!’

‘Sandra!’ Sue exclaimed. ‘How are you?’

‘Good, thanks! I’m just taking an early lunch break as I’m on my way to the dentist’s. How about you? You must be spending the day shopping like the lady of leisure you are now – lucky thing!’

Sue smiled weakly. She and Sandra had worked together at the Windlesham Group, a large insurance firm based in the city. Sue had joined the company over twenty years ago, after her two children had started school and she’d gone back to work part-time. She’d seen the firm go through huge changes over the years, expanding from a start-up business with a handful of staff, to a thriving corporation that employed almost two hundred people. Sue’s own role had grown in line with Windlesham’s development, and by the time she retired, she was head of Human Resources, overseeing the entire department.

‘So how is everyone?’ Sue changed the subject. ‘Tell me all the gossip.’

‘Oh, there’s nothing to tell really.’ Sandra waved her hand dismissively. ‘Same old, same old. Although Richard Maynard got promoted to head of UK Operations – can you believe it? None of us saw that coming! And Tessa Stevenson is pregnant again. She’s due in June, so we’re still deciding what to do about that. We might get a temp in, or it’s possible we can split her workload between Dan and Aisha …’

As Sandra chattered on, Sue realised just how out of the loop she felt. They might have been uneventful, everyday happenings as far as Sandra was concerned, but they felt like a lifeline for Sue.

‘And how’s Beverley getting on?’ she asked, referring to her replacement. Beverley was in her early forties, two decades younger than sixty-two-year-old Sue, and had made a big step up by taking on Sue’s position.

‘Oh, she’s fine. Taken to it like a duck to water, as they say. Not that we’re not missing you, of course,’ Sandra added hastily. ‘We’ve had to take on some new people as the company’s expanding again. Windlesham’s have won a big new contract with Bristol council, and there’s talk of moving to new offices – perhaps that fancy new business park out near Filton.’

Sue swallowed, forcing herself to smile brightly. Everyone was managing just fine without her – better, in fact. She knew it was irrational, but it made her feel utterly useless.

‘So what have you been up to?’ Sandra asked eagerly. ‘I remember you had all these plans when you were leaving. It must be wonderful having so much free time to do exactly what you want.’

‘Oh, I haven’t been doing much really …’ Sue replied vaguely. ‘We’re thinking of going on holiday soon, but we’re still deciding where.’

‘Ooh, that sounds lovely. You’re so lucky, not having to work anymore. I guess I’ll just keep playing the lottery and crossing my fingers!’

Sue laughed politely.

‘Anyway, I must dash,’ Sandra continued. ‘You remember how lunch breaks always fly by – we can’t all be ladies of leisure!’

‘Send my love to everyone,’ Sue told her, as Sandra waved a hasty goodbye and dashed off down the street.

For a moment, Sue remained motionless, frozen to the spot in the middle of the pavement. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of herself in a shop window and almost didn’t recognise herself. Who was that old woman, with the grey hair and the lined face? Inside, she felt as though she was in her twenties, a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. But the reflection told a very different story.

Suddenly overcome by an overwhelming desire to escape, Sue turned on her heel and hurried towards the car park. This whole shopping expedition had been a disaster, and she didn’t want to stay here any longer. She wanted to be back at home, in the safety of her own house – not some stupid old woman out roaming the streets, vainly searching for a purpose.

George was snoozing in the armchair, a copy of the Daily Mail crumpled in his lap and Radio 4 playing in the background, when Sue walked in. The slam of the door jolted him awake, and he bolted upright, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes. His reading glasses had slid down his nose, and he pushed them hastily back up before straightening out his paper.

‘George?’ Sue called out, as she opened the living room door.

‘I didn’t expect you to be back so early,’ he confessed, trying not to look guilty. He knew Sue didn’t like him lazing around the house, especially when it was only a couple of hours since he’d got out of bed. In George’s mind, he didn’t see what the problem was. Neither of them had anywhere they needed to be, so what did it matter if he chose to have a little mid-morning nap? Fortunately for George, Sue seemed distracted, and failed to notice her husband’s sleep-lined face and bedraggled appearance.

‘I wasn’t really in the mood for shopping,’ she shrugged disconsolately.

‘Oh.’

They sat in silence for a few moments, George wondering if it was acceptable to go back to reading his paper.

‘Guess who I saw today?’ Sue began.

‘Um … I don’t know. Who?’

‘Sandra Farley. From Windlesham’s,’ she prompted, as George continued to look clueless.

‘Oh,’ he said again, hoping he’d chosen the right tone of voice. In recent years, he’d largely stopped paying attention when Sue talked about her work. Did his wife even like this Sandra woman? ‘How was she?’ he tried.

‘She seemed very well. Apparently they’ve got a big new contract, so they’re looking to expand – perhaps to that new business park in Filton.’

‘Good job you’re not still there, eh?’ George remarked. ‘You wouldn’t want to be bothered with travelling out there every day.’

‘It’s supposed to be really nice,’ Sue continued. ‘Plush new offices set in landscaped gardens, with a Starbucks on site. There’s even a gym for everyone who works there.’

‘Well there you are then – what would you be interested in a gym for?’

‘I might!’ Sue retorted indignantly. ‘Plenty of women my age go to the gym.’

‘What are you planning to do? Bulk up like one of those bodybuilders?’ George sniggered. ‘Or maybe you’re thinking of running a marathon? I’m afraid those days are long behind you,’ he added, still chuckling to himself.

Sue pursed her lips like she’d just sucked on a lemon. ‘I’m going to make a drink. Would you like one?’ she asked shortly.

‘Ooh, I’d love a cup of tea,’ George replied, oblivious to the fact that anything was wrong. ‘Thanks, love.’

As his wife disappeared into the kitchen, George heard her call out, ‘Apparently the HR department are managing very well without me.’

‘Well of course they are.’ George raised his voice to reply. ‘You didn’t expect the company to collapse after you left, did you? If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about business, it’s that no one is irreplaceable, no matter how important you think you are.’

He thought Sue might have muttered something in reply but it was hard to hear as the kettle rose noisily to boiling point.

‘What was that, love?’ George shouted. But Sue didn’t answer.

She came back through a few moments later, carrying two mugs of tea.

‘So, what shall we do today?’ she asked brightly, her bad mood seemingly forgotten.

George felt his heart sink. Every day it was the same, as Sue attempted to drag him out to garden centres and furniture shops, craft fairs and exhibitions. She’d even started talking about exotic holidays to far-flung destinations, weekend breaks to European cities. Didn’t she understand that he’d retired?

Until recently, George had worked as an engineer, and seemed to spend his whole life rushing around and striving to meet tight deadlines. Especially when the children were still at home, he’d often felt as though he never had a minute to himself.

Retirement, in comparison, was a veritable paradise! He had no commitments, no responsibilities, and that was just how he liked it. He could take all the time in the world to read the paper or do the crossword, enjoy a leisurely lunch and potter in the garden, or watch a film if the weather was bad. That took him nicely up to his evening meal, expertly cooked by his wife at the same time every day, and then there was always something good on TV these days – all those channels! Perhaps he’d pick a gentle detective drama, or a documentary. Sue never minded too much what he watched – she always had her nose in a book, or would be on the Internet researching things to do.

If it had been a particularly taxing day, George reflected, he might fall asleep in front of the television, but without fail he’d be in bed by midnight.

‘I hadn’t really planned anything, to be honest,’ he admitted, taking a sip of his tea. ‘I’ve got a few jobs to do round the house,’ he continued vaguely, although that wasn’t strictly true, ‘so I thought we could just stay in and I’d get on with those …’

He saw the tiniest flicker of irritation cross his wife’s face.

‘We could drive up to the Cotswolds,’ she suggested, as though he hadn’t spoken. ‘Like we used to when the kids were little. Then we could find somewhere nice to have our dinner – a country pub, or a little restaurant. We could even stay overnight,’ she continued, her voice rising with excitement. ‘After all, we’re not in any hurry to get back, are we?’

George glanced out of the window. It had started raining lightly, and the trees were swaying violently in the wind. It was a day for staying indoors with the central heating turned up, not a day for traipsing around the countryside.

‘Maybe another time, eh? Let’s organise something for next week. Besides, haven’t you got that book club thing tomorrow night?’

‘Yes, that’s true,’ Sue agreed, instantly perking up as she remembered Ten Sweet Lessons. If only her husband could be more like Alexander Black – passionate and impulsive, instead of dull and grumpy.

If truth be told, she was finding Ten Sweet Lessons absolutely fascinating. Of course, the writing was hardly comparable with Oscar Wilde or Virginia Woolf, but Sue was utterly hooked, and could understand why countless other women were too. It was pure fantasy, offering an erotically charged glimpse into a world which she’d never experienced.

For Sue, sex had always been largely functional, with little or no focus on her pleasure. George was the only man she’d ever slept with, and Sue had gone through life thinking of sex as something of a chore – an act which, for the most part, was to be endured, rather than celebrated. But the experiences Christina described in Ten Sweet Lessons had left Sue feeling unexpectedly envious. Even if she was in her early sixties, was it too much to demand a satisfactory sex life before it was too late? Her ageing limbs might not be able to contort themselves into a dozen different positions, but if George was willing to be a little open-minded, she might be able to reach the heady, climactic heights described in the novel.

Right now though, Sue couldn’t see any way of opening up to her husband. The gulf that had sprung up between them was just too wide, and the idea of telling him how she felt was unthinkable.

‘There you are then,’ George pronounced with satisfaction, bringing Sue rudely out of her reverie. ‘Let’s leave going out for another day. It’s nice that you’ve joined that little book group though,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Something to keep you occupied.’

Sue opened her mouth, intending to snap back with an angry retort, but then closed it again, an expression of defeat crossing her face. She slumped down in her chair, taking a sip of tea.

‘Yes,’ she agreed tonelessly. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘Well, there you are then,’ George repeated, shaking out his newspaper and turning to the sports pages. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.

Neither of them spoke and the air lay heavy between them, just the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway to break the silence.