Lying Together Read Free Page A

know that wouldn’t help – for all her generalized moaning, she won’t hear real criticism of him. She says Radnor’s the only man who’s ever taken her seriously. From the time they started to go out, Radnor was effectively God. I remember her phoning me after their first date, saying he’d given her the most wonderful evening ever and why hadn’t I told her before that he was so romantic ? ‘Because he’s not,’ I’d said. ‘Don’t be fooled by the way he looks at you. He’s disastrous around women. Take it from me.’ But she wasn’t listening – or if she was she thought I was joking. After a few intense weeks, the die was cast. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she’d said, curled up on my sofa, her baby-blue eyes sparkling. ‘He thinks I’m perfect. It’s a bit frightening, to be honest, Annie. So you must never, ever, say anything .’
    * * *
    Now she’s starting to cry and I offer her my hanky. The waiters busy themselves with laying knives and forks on adjoining tables, waiting for a suitable opening.
    â€˜I wasn’t going to do this.’ She balls my hanky into a greyish mass. ‘I feel I’ll run dry, soon. And I get really bad headaches. What I want is to just to see you. Have a laugh. Feel normal.’
    â€˜Whatever normal is.’
    â€˜Yes. Well, more like you. Come on, Annie, drink up.’ She beckons a waiter, consults the giant menu. ‘I’m going to have the carbonara.’
    â€˜I’ll have the con funghi. And a salad.’ I’m feeling less nauseous, now. There’s nothing like making decisions.
    â€˜That’s two salads, then.’ Evie smiles up at the waiter, an intimate, flirting smile. She can’t help it.
    â€˜Yes, Signora, Signora.’ He bows to us both, goes off humming.
    She has that instant appeal, Evie. Even when I first saw her and she was looking a good deal worse than she does now. She was dressed in one of those strange hospital gowns, socks and slippers. She was sitting on the next bed to me.
    â€˜Hi,’ she’d said, leaning towards me. ‘Thought you’d wake up soon. Feeling okay?’
    â€˜Not sure.’ I tried to move, and felt the thick pad between my legs. A flicker of regret came and went.
    â€˜They’ll have you up in a minute if they see you’re awake. I’d close my eyes if I were you.’
    I did as she said. It was easier not to think. I dropped off to the murmur of distant voices, the clatter of crockery in the corridor outside. When I came to again, she was still sitting on her bed, but dressed this time. In white. With her baby blond hair freshly brushed, she looked like an angel.
    â€˜You look like an angel.’
    â€˜Oh my God, she’s hallucinating!’ She had a deep, throaty giggle.
    I laughed, but whispered, ‘You do , though.’
    â€˜Fallen angel, more like. I’m Evie, by the way.’
    â€˜And I’m Anne. With an e.’ I don’t know why I said that. But we both laughed.
    â€˜Really? And how are you feeling, Anne with-an-e?’
    â€˜I don’t know. Yes I do. Awful.’ I moved a little, felt the blood oozing out of me. I winced.
    â€˜You’ll get over it. In a couple of weeks you’ll have forgotten all about it. Take it from me – veteran of three campaigns.’ She smiled.
    I stared at her. In her white dress, with her flaxen hair and peachy skin she seemed immaculate.
    A nurse came, took my temperature and went. ‘She disapproves of me,’ said Evie as she left the room.
    â€˜Why d’you think that?’
    She laughed. Then launched into all the reasons why women tended to hate her. Her good looks, her easy attitude – and above all her success with men. Not that it was all success; more a series of flash affairs with dubious endings. Dubious men, too – older, invariably married, and always on the make. But