Watermelon Page 55

I was silent.

"Claire," she said kindly, after we sat saying nothing for five tense minutes, "all I'm saying is that he's a lovely man and he seems to really like you and you've had a rough time and even if things do eventually work out with James, maybe you should have a little bit of fun in the meantime."

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"What is it around here?" I asked. "Everyone's encouraging me to have a relationship with Adam. Even my own mother!"

"Your mother told you to sleep with Adam?" screeched Laura in aston- ishment.

Well, not exactly in those words, I suppose," I said. "But that's what she meant."

"So what's stopping you?" asked Laura in delight. "You've got your mother's blessing. What a brilliant omen."

I thought for a few moments.

"Yes," I sighed. "I suppose I should."

`What!" barked Laura. "Are you serious?"

"For God's sake," I raised my voice at her. "Isn't that just what you've been encouraging me to do?"

I knew this would happen. I just knew it.

People are always encouraging each other to do things that they know the other person won't do. And then get the shock of their lives when the person actually does it.

I'm culpable myself.

For years and years I encouraged Dad to get himself a pair of jeans. "Honestly, Dad, they'd be gorgeous on you," I often said.

And Dad would say, "Ah, go away. I'm far too old."

"No, Dad, you're not."

The day that Dad actually turned up wearing a pair of board-stiff navy blue Wranglers, with a twelve-inch turn-up on the hem, smiling shyly and proudly, the shock nearly killed me.

"Yes, I know," Laura said, seeming a little bit distressed. "But it just seems so out of character for you. I mean, you're always so loyal."

"Laura, I'm hardly being disloyal to James if I have sex with Adam, am I?" I asked her nicely. I could see how shocked she was.

Although I had a veneer of good-time-girlness, I had pretty much always been Claire the Constant. My veneer of debauchery was paper- thin--practically transparent, in fact. I always wanted to be boring and settled down with a man, but because that was considered to be the most insulting thing you can say

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about someone--that is, that all she wants is to be settled down with a man--I'd done my level best to hide it.

Few people knew my shameful secret.

"Claire, do you like this Adam?" she asked in concern.

I was amused to note that Adam had gone from being "the gorgeous Adam" to "this Adam" in a matter of minutes.

"Of course I like him," I told her, laughing at her horror. "He's deli- cious--or hadn't you noticed?"

"Handsome, I grant you," she said cautiously. "But what do you know about him?"

"I know that he's nice and he makes me feel smart and beautiful and desirable."

"Claire, don't forget that you're very vulnerable right now. You are on the rebound."

"No kidding?" I said. I thought I sounded very clever.

"Anyway," I said with great curiosity, "what are you doing, encouraging me to have a fling with him and then when I say I will you go all judgmental on me?"

"Sorry, Claire," she said humbly. "I really am. It's just that I thought it might be an ego boost for you to know that he liked you. But I didn't think for a second that you'd actually do anything about it. You're such a one- man woman that this has come as a little bit of a shock."

"Laura, I'm a no-man woman at the moment," I reminded her.

"I know, but you love James so much that...I don't know...I just didn't think that you'd even consider anyone else."

"Things change, people change," I said. "I don't know how I feel about James anymore. All I really know is that being with Adam is lovely."

Laura suddenly pulled herself together.

"Well, if that's the case, you couldn't have picked a bigger hunk to have a fling with. He's so good-looking. And so nice. Smart too," she added as an afterthought.

This was good coming from Laura, who is usually more concerned with the organ between his legs than the organ between his ears.

"And you'd better get into training." She grinned. "Didn't they give you exercises to do to tone yourself up? Pelvic floor

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exercises or whatever they're called. You don't want sex with Adam to be like throwing a sausage up O'Connell Street."

"Thank you, Laura," I said dryly. "You make me sound like such a catch."

After Laura left I just couldn't settle down.

There was no one around.

Anna had done another of her disappearing acts.

Helen apparently was at Linda's, although I was glad about that. I was feeling so guilty about Adam that I don't think I could have looked her in the eye. I was pretty sure that Adam wasn't her boyfriend, but it might be a good time to find out for sure.

On the other hand, I didn't necessarily want to find out that he was in fact her man. What would that tell me about him? That he was some sort of weirdo who got great enjoyment from wrecking homes and pitting sister against sister and tearing families asunder.

If Adam was Helen's man then I would back off immediately and have nothing further to do with him. That part was easy.

But what if Adam wasn't Helen's man but Helen wanted him?

Well, if Adam wanted her also, then the same principle applied. I would back off immediately and have nothing further to do with him.

But what if Helen wanted Adam and Adam didn't want Helen and if, delicious thought, Adam wanted me? Then what?

That was a tough one.

I did love Helen.

God knows why, but I did.

And I didn't want to do anything to upset her.

No, really, I didn't.

The best thing I could do was talk to Adam about all this. Just ask him straight out what the story was between himself and Helen.

"My God, Claire." Mum scowled at me as I changed the television channel yet again. "What's wrong with you? Can't you sit still? You're like someone with a feather in her underwear."

"Sorry, Mum."

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Just then the phone rang.

"Jesus, Claire, my foot!" yelped Dad, like a dog with his tail caught in a door, as I raced to answer it and crushed several of his metatarsals in the process.

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