Caught in the Act. Gemma Fox

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СКАЧАТЬ are you?’ asked Carol, a little self-consciously; what did they talk about now? How long was it since they had spoken?

      ‘I’m fine, happy, busy. We’re living in the Midlands—I don’t know if you knew but I married a vicar.’

      Carol felt her heart sinking. It was worse than she thought. ‘re ally?’ she said. ‘You married him? God, bloody hell—oh damn, bugger—I’m so sorry. Er…’

      At which point Diana giggled furiously. Carol would have recognised the sound anywhere and felt the tension in her stomach ease.

      ‘It’s not that bad, re ally,’ Diana replied. ‘As long as you don’t mind working Christmas and Easter and every weekend. How have you been, anyway? I’ve often thought about you.’

      ‘How long have you got?’ Carol said wryly.

      ‘Well, unfortunately at the moment about two minutes—which is a real shame because I’d re ally like the chance to catch up. I’m helping out at the parish luncheon club today and we’re in the eye of the storm between the roast beef and apple crumble. Would you mind if I rang you back later?’

      ‘Not at all; I’m in all day.’

      ‘It’s so good to hear you. One thing, just quickly—my son is coming down your way to scout camp at half term and, well, maybe we could get together?’

      Carol smiled. ‘Sure. I was just thinking how awful it was that we’d lost touch. So yes, of course. Do you know when it is?’

      Out in the garden the first of the kebabs committed ritual suicide, dropping through the grill in a wild flurry of wood ash and much swearing.

      ‘Hang on, I’ve got to go. The dessert stampede just started,’ said Diana. ‘I’ll ring you back.’

      ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

      Diana rang around nine, when Raf had left and the day was slowing down. Carol took the phone and a glass of wine out into the garden.

      ‘I can’t imagine you married to a vicar, Di. Are you happy?’

      ‘What on earth is that supposed to mean?’ Diana said, sounding deeply amused. ‘Of course I’m not happy. I’ve been married donkeys years—I’ve forgotten what happy means.’

      ‘You don’t seem the type, or at least you didn’t used to be. What happened? Wouldn’t you be better off with a nice chartered accountant, or a plumber? What about the sex, drugs and rock and roll?’

      There was a moment’s pause and then Diana said, ‘Hedley and I try not to let them interfere with evensong.’

      ‘Oh, clever,’ laughed Carol. ‘I always thought you’d end up with Chris Morrison.’

      She heard Diana catch her breath. ‘My goodness. You know I’d forgotten all about Chris. Chris Morrison? I wonder what he’s doing now. How on earth could I forget Chris?’

      ‘He’s on Oldschooltie—there’s a photo,’ said Carol, taking another sip of wine. ‘He’s done re ally well for himself, and he looks like George Clooney.’

      ‘No?’ Diana said incredulously.

      Carol giggled. ‘No, actually he looks more like George Formby but he sounds re ally nice on his profile. He lives in Yorkshire now, I think—I’m amazed you didn’t look him up.’

      ‘I only joined a couple of weeks ago. I see the names and it brings back all sorts of memories. I keep wondering what they’re all doing now, what do they look like, who they ended up with.’

      ‘Well, you ended up with a vicar called Hedley.’

      ‘You make it sound terrible; he’s a lovely guy. I met him when we were at university. I told you about him. It’s not like I don’t know all about his dirty linen. He may be a living saint to our flower ladies but to me he is still the guy who climbed the fire escape into my bedroom in the early hours, hellbent on a legover, and threw up all over my bed instead.’

      ‘Whoever said romance was dead?’

      ‘It helps me keep him in perspective. So, how do you feel about a flying visit?’

      ‘It would be great, but does it have to be flying? You could come for lunch, the whole day—stay over if you like. That way we can have a drink and it’ll give us plenty of time to catch up. I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind your son bunking down with them.’

      Diana made a hesitant little noise. ‘It’s very kind but—’ she began

      Carol smiled. ‘If you’re being polite, don’t be—if you don’t want to stay that’s fine but if you do, it would be lovely. You haven’t got to make your mind up now. Think about it.’

      ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

      ‘You won’t be, there’s a spare room, and if we haven’t got anything to say, or we hate the sight of each other, you can always go home early.’

      ‘OK, great. Have you got a diary handy?’

      Carol took a quick look round the kitchen. It was tidy, there was food in the oven, salad in the fridge, dessert defrosting on the draining board and Raf had said he’d come round for supper. So far so good. Carol looked in the mirror. Some days it still struck her as odd, seeing a grown-up looking back. She tugged her hair into shape, before taking another look at the clock. Diana had said they would arrive around twelve. It was almost that now. Just how many ways were there to worry?

      What had been the state of play when they last met? What if Diana had changed—come out, gone in, gone weird, gone mad, gone sensible. Grown up? Carol was surprised to realise just how nervous she felt. What it boiled down to was, what if their friendship had been a passing thing? What if now they were all grown up they had nothing in common except memories and polite conversation? And how much would that colour their notion of the past?

      From outside came the sound of wheels over gravel. Taking a deep breath, Carol opened the back door and headed towards the battered Volvo estate now parked under the lilacs.

      ‘Diana?’

      As soon as she saw her, Diana practically leaped out of the car.

      Carol would have known her anywhere. ‘My God, you look amazing,’ Carol said, holding her at arm’s length. ‘How come you haven’t got any wrinkles?’

      ‘What can I tell you? Healthy living and a clean conscience,’ Diana said, doing a little mock twirl.

      ‘That’ll be the day. Did you manage to find us OK?’

      ‘Uh-huh. Your directions were re ally good—so some things have changed for the better. It’s re ally great to see you.’ Diana, grinning, pulled her close and hugged her tight, all the while watched over by her son, who was sitting in the back of the car, surrounded by great piles of camping gear.

      He looked about twelve, and as he clambered out of the car he appeared to be made entirely of elbows, knees and teeth. Carol guessed he was probably the spitting image of his father, all wild, wiry, hamster-coloured hair and СКАЧАТЬ