Sophia's World Pt. 10

TWENTY FIVE

When Sophia finally arrived home at ten in the morning after a long and turbulent flight still feeling a little groggy, she was greeted by Pat, the new nanny. Pat had started a few days after Myška had left, a friend generously offering to help out with child-minding duties during the interim. 'Nanny' was a doubly fitting name in Pat's case, as she was a grandmother herself, who had helped her daughters bring up their own offspring. This was also doubly reassuring for Sophia, since it meant that her children would get all the care they needed, while Peter would be spared the temptation of indulging in any extracurricular activities that were not part of the helper's domestic responsibilities. At least, she very much imagined so, unless her husband had developed a thing for grannies in her absence.

This was even more of a given, since Pat appeared to be all business when it came to her work, which she proudly called her 'vocation'. Gratefully accepting the offer of a cup of tea, Sophia chatted with her about this and that, learning, among other things, that she came in each day from Battersea, where she and her husband Ernie had lived since they got married more than 40 years before. Ernie ran a painting and decorating business, and still went out to work each day, although he now left most of the 'heavy lifting' to his staff, a number of whom had worked with him for more than 20 years. Pat herself had trained as a nurse, but had done only bits and pieces of freelance work at hospitals and clinics since her eldest had been born.

Sophia told her how happy she was to have someone with a first-aid background around the place, especially given Ollie's propensity to get into scrapes. Like Myška before her, Pat was happy to prepare their dinners for them when required, though she said that Peter hadn't yet availed himself of that service, preferring to warm up what the children were having after he got back from the office. In common with almost all members of the fairer sex, Pat held a very high opinion of Sophia's husband. 'Very low maintenance, that one,' was her verdict, which left Sophia with the feeling that she would be expected to follow suit, unless she wanted to lock horns in a trial of strength. This was an outcome that Sophia couldn't envisage, since Pat had taken the job for just three months, before they set off for their place in Portugal for their winter break.

Taking herself upstairs for a shower and then bed, Sophia couldn't resist the urge to pop into Myška's room for old times' sake. The first thing she noticed was that the massage table was gone - probably to Piri's place, as Sophia couldn't imagine it being shipped back to the Czech Republic. She saw no evidence to suggest that Peter had offered the new nanny use of this room; or perhaps he had, and she had politely declined. As Sophia muttered to herself, 'It was all business with this lady.'

As she walked downstairs to her room, she wondered how the kids were finding Pat after two years of Myška. She couldn't imagine either of them being thrilled at the prospect of being dropped off by their school buses to be met with someone who was so much sterner - not to mention, older - than Myška. Ollie - a born diplomat, like his father - was unlikely to show his displeasure, but Chloe (getting on for five and in her first week of school) was a different kettle of fish. From the messages that she'd been getting from Peter and her Facetime chats with the children from LA, she was too rapped up in the fun of her new elementary school to be that bothered by the home help, but you never knew with her. Still waters ran deep.

Sophia made a mental note to get back on the app and check out potential new nannies as she stepped into the shower - still her favourite shower in the world, and she had tried plenty of them. She remembered her times with the children's first nanny (and her roommate - not to mention, the roommate's sister), some of which had played out in this very shower cubicle. She would really have to be sensible this time round and hire a plain, dull, unappealing woman. She laughed at herself as she said this, knowing how easily her best laid plans could go out of the window at the first hint of a sexy voice, or a well-shaped calf or a lingering handshake.

'Oh, well,' she thought. 'It is what it is, Que sera sera!'

While Sophia was pottering about in the garden, deadheading the rose bushes and trimming some of the shrubs that needed urgent attention, she received a ping on her phone. It was a message from Kaori! She would be coming to London in a week's time together with her father for meetings with Sophia's bank and was hoping they would be able to meet up outside office hours. She mentioned that she and her father were booked into a hotel for the three nights of their stay.

Sophia responded at once, saying it would be wonderful to see her again and insisting that she found time in her schedule to visit with them. Kaori said that she would love that. The final evening of her stay - the following Friday - would suit her best. Sophia checked her diary and smiled when she saw that Peter would be out that evening - a company do that would keep him occupied until the early hours. She toyed with the idea of not telling Kaori about this, but decided she didn't want to, as it were, 'ambush' her. Kaori made all the right noises about being sorry not to be able to meet her other half but Sophia sensed - was it just wishful thinking? - that she wouldn't be disappointed to have her hostess all to herself.

She knew that Peter would be disappointed, but those were the breaks. Perhaps he could make himself useful by picking father and daughter up from the airport, if Kaori was arriving early on the Wednesday? She checked with Kaori and her flight was indeed scheduled to arrive at around six in the morning.

'That should kill two birds with one stone!' Sophia thought, forgetting in her enthusiasm about the 'Peter effect'.

It was only when Kaori replied saying that it would make such a difference to see a friendly face on arrival that Sophia was brought up short. Memories of Myška, Piri, Kriszta, Mingzhu and Honey flooded her mind. (Had she known about Veronique she would never have made the offer in the first place.) But it was too late now. And surely she could trust the Japanese woman. She had never married, had never mentioned any boyfriends, had never showed any interest in men when she had been with her in Japan. Yes, she thought, if there are two people I can trust, it is Veronique and Kaori. Unbeknownst to her, the writing was very much on the wall.

When the children came home, they were very excited to see her and she talked and played with them for more than an hour, until they were taken in hand by Pat, who told them it was time for their bath. They had so much to talk about that Sophia quite forgot about their presents. It was only as they were being hauled away that Chloe raised the subject. Sophia told them that they would receive them after tea, when Daddy ought to be back. This news was received so joyfully that Sophia decided she'd wrap the gifts: a sketchbook for Chloe and a dinosaur egg kit for Ollie - the personal recommendation of one of the executives at Sondeco, who had bought it for his seven-year-old son.

After the kids had received their presents from mummy, been read their bedtime story - again by mummy - and settled down for the night, Peter and Sophia enjoyed a glass of wine while their dinner was warming in the oven. Peter knew a little about Sondeco because they were a growing company in a stagnant, it not shrinking, market, and showed a particular interest in the movie side of the business. He jokingly asked Sophia if she had managed to wangle a walk-on part in a blockbuster, so that he could boast to his mates that his wife had been immortalised on celluloid.

'If only I had had the time,' replied Sophia, thinking of her liaisons with Tom and Kimmy in a different type of genre.

'Not even time for a famous Hollywood party with cocaine and babes in the pool?' asked Peter with a glint in his eye.

'The only pool I saw was the one at my hotel, and I was the only person using it,' answered Sophia.

'And what did you get up to while I was away? I can't imagine you spent all your time at the gym or sculling on the river.'

'Well, since you ask, I took the kids to Legoland - which they've been bugging us about for ages - and played a couple of rounds of golf with the lads. Apart from that, pretty much early to bed and early to rise.'

'Mm,' mused Sophia out loud. 'At least I can trust you with the help now. Somehow I can't imagine you wasting your lines on Pat.'

'Talking of nannies, have you identified a possible replacement yet?'

'Not yet, but I mean to get on the app during my lunch hour tomorrow, so long as I don't have any interruptions.'

'Any idea of the profile you're looking for?'

'Yes, Peter. A grandmother, good with children, excellent cook, wears dentures, takes no bullshit from the husband.'

'You really know how to turn me on! Can't wait.'

'By the way, I have a little job for you next Wednesday morning. Early. Reckon you'll be up for it?'

'I'm all ears.'

'My Japanese friend Kaori will be staying in town for a few days for meetings with our bank among other things. I am meeting up with her on her only free evening - the Friday - when you have your annual company bender. Now, since I am such a kind person, and remembering the interest you took in her when I talked about my Tokyo trip, I thought I would give you the chance to meet her. So, if you're willing to sacrifice an hour or so in bed, you can meet her and her father at the airport and take them to their hotel in Hyde Park. The flight is scheduled to arrive at six.'

'Right,' said Peter, somewhat perplexed as to why his wife was extending this invitation to him. 'Of course, darling. Anything to help.'

'Good. I'll send you the flight details etc.'

'You'd better let me have her family name too, so I can make up a name board like a regular valet.'

'Sure. I'll send you that too.'

The following day, Sophia, as planned, got on the app and checked out available nannies and au pairs. Most could only commit for a year or less, but Peter and she had discussed this and decided that it was better all round if the minimum stay (allowing for a probationary period) was two years. Finally, she identified someone who she thought might fit. She was in her early forties, divorced, with two grown-up children of her own. She contacted the woman, called Rosie, who replied that evening that she would be able to come for an interview in two weeks' time after she had returned from visiting her children. That left more than two months until Pat left, so even if this one fell through for some reason, she should be able to get someone else.

Peter was in an excruciatingly boring compliance meeting when he received a message from Sophia with Kaori's details. Unable to resist, as the speaker droned on, he entered "Kaori Matsuyama" into Google to see what he might find. There were quite a few entries in Japanese and those in English mainly referenced a pop singer who seemed to go by the same name. Nothing deterred, he decided to do an Image search, and this time he hit gold dust. Nothing unseemly, of course, but what he did find made a big impression, soon mirrored by the impression his swelling cock was making on his suit trousers.

'No wonder Sophia got off with this Kaori,' he thought. 'She's enough to send any hot-blooded human being round the bend.'

Suddenly, the prospect of getting up at 5.30 in the morning was beginning to look very appealing.

TWENTY SIX

The big day - at least the one that Peter had been looking forward to - finally arrived. Peter was up and raring to go as soon as the alarm went off, adding a splash of his favourite after-shave after shaving and grabbing a cup of coffee, which he would drink in the car. Traffic was light and he was in the Arrivals Hall twenty minutes after the flight touched down. What with all the kerfuffle of getting through immigration, he was prepared for a bit of a wait, and it was indeed nearly an hour later that he was approached by the unmistakable face of the Japanese woman, accompanied a few paces behind by her father, Makoto. He noted that both were travelling with check-in luggage, which explained why there had been such a delay. Maybe it was a Japanese (Asian?) thing, travelling with so much luggage for a mere three-night trip. Whatever, Peter shook hands with daughter and father, in turn, taking care to spend more time with the father at this point. He hoped he would have plenty of time with the daughter alone later.

If it was a stratagem designed to endear him to the Japanese woman, it was signally successful. Indeed, when they got to their hotel room, Mr Matsuyama was fulsome in his praise of this charming gaijin. What the father didn't know was that said charmer was by that time in possession of his daughter's phone number. How this situation had come about may be briefly related. During the drive to the hotel (a matter of less than an hour, traffic being relatively benign at that time of day), Mr Matsuyama had sat up front with Peter and had therefore dominated the greater part of the conversation. Kaori had taken advantage of the opening by a hotel employee of the front passenger door to allow her father to get out of the car to slip a name card into Peter's hand, with her English phone number written on it. And was that one of Kaori's slender fingers that had lingered longer than was strictly necessary on Peter's wrist? In a second, though, it was all over, as the door was opened for Kaori and she alighted. The image of her that had to last Peter until he might somehow meet up with her was of her and her father turning to wave goodbye to him. Peter was rock hard and badly in need of release.

That he managed to achieve in the washroom shortly after he arrived at the office. He then had to get down to the serious business of working out how, when and where he could meet with this stunner in the next three days. Suddenly, an idea struck him. It was traditional on the afternoon of the company dinner for the office to maintain only a skeleton staff. Other staff could knock off early and go to the pub. He had done it himself on a number of occasions. What if he told his boss that he needed to get home to look after the kids before his wife got home - the help having called in sick? That should do it. Now, then, all that remained for him to do was to contact Kaori and run the idea of meeting up past her.

He thought a bit of patience was becoming a man in his position. No good to anyone if he made himself out to be desperate. So he waited until lunchtime to call her, and then waited again until getting on for six, when he was on the point of leaving the office. How should he start the conversation, he thought? Suggest a time and a place? Just a time? Just a place? The Japanese were famed for their indirectness. Perhaps he should indulge in a bit of small talk first, ask her about her day, that kind of thing. That's what he decided to do.

She picked up on the first ring, as if she had been expecting his call. After the preliminaries had been dispensed with, he mentioned, as casually as he could, that he was in a position where he could take Friday afternoon off. The epitome of calmness, she asked him if he would like to visit her hotel - as if it were a tourist attraction, a place where he could pass the time of day. He said that sounded good, but at the back of his mind he had a niggling concern about her father. Would he be around? Appearing to read his mind, she said that her father would be playing nine holes of golf that afternoon with executives of the bank and would be dining that evening at a Japanese restaurant in Knightsbridge. The tryst was arranged for 3 o' clock in her room. He could hardly believe he would forget the room number, but he wrote it down on an old receipt he found in his wallet, nonetheless.

That evening, when Sophia asked him what he thought of Kaori, Peter knew better than to play down her allure. After all, she knew him well enough to know that he would be lusting after her. This time, though, unlike, say, with Mingzhu, she wouldn't be allowing him to get into a position where he could work his considerable charms on her.

'I must say,' he said, 'I'd give anything to be a fly on the wall on Friday evening.'

'Maybe I should video the encounter?'

'God! You're such an exhibitionist!'

'Tell me what you are planning to wear. Knowing you, you must have thought about it.'

'And tell me just why I should indulge your voyeuristic fantasies?'

'Oh, I don't know. Because maybe I can advise you.'

'You mean, if you think my dress choice might put a bit of a dampener on things.'

'Well, you never know.'

'Okay,' said Sophia, pausing as if she were throwing an outfit together on the spot. 'I was thinking of a black Mônot dress with plunging neckline.'

'Fuck me!' exclaimed Peter, the wind quite knocked out of his sails. 'Can I have a sneak preview? The least you owe me surely.'

'Poor Peter!' his wife replied. 'I only get to pick it up tomorrow.'

Seeing his downcast look, she thought for a moment before extending the olive branch.

'How about if I get Kaori to take a photo of me for you? You can make it your new wallpaper on your phone.'

'And how about you take a photo of Kaori too,' said Peter breathlessly. 'I'm sure she'll be going to some effort for you as well.'

'Oh, and maybe a selfie too - of the two of you!'

'Maybe you'd like a "before and after"?'

'Oh, fuck, yeah. Now you're talking.'

That night, it need hardly be said, they made love with a passion bordering on frenzy. Neither of them could wait for Friday to arrive.

But arrive it did, even if neither of them slept well the night before - Peter so restless he took himself off to the spare room, Sophia disturbed by strange dreams, whose content vanished upon waking. They breakfasted together that morning, as they sometimes did, while the children were still sleeping, and talked excitedly about the day ahead. Naturally enough, Peter was keen to hide all traces of excitement, but in the circumstances there seemed nothing odd to Sophia about any vicarious animation he felt in anticipation of the romantic evening she had planned for herself. Sophia left for the tube station first, leaving Peter to get the children up, sort some breakfast out for them and wait for the nanny to arrive before following suit. Like clockwork, Pat was there at 8 o'clock, greeting Peter in her customary cheery manner and waving him off at the door with the children, who were now dressed and shod and ready for the school bus.

So excited was he about his rendezvous with Kaori that he forgot to take a spare shirt and a change of underwear, as had been his original intention. Never mind, he thought; he could always freshen up in her room if need be. The temperature was cool, anyway, so he couldn't see a problem with sweat. Apart, of course, from the perspiration he could feel even now emerging unbidden from under his arms. He hadn't been this nervous in years. At least he would be able to wash at work, where he kept towels and deodorant. He might even have a fresh shirt, now that he thought about it.

The morning dragged interminably for husband and wife alike. In contrast, Kaori was as calm and collected as normal, attending a final morning of meetings with the bank's top executives. Today she was without her father, who was doing his laps in the hotel pool before receiving a massage, prior to a light lunch at the golf club. She enjoyed the opportunity to speak Japanese all morning, as these meetings were taking place in the absence of the local staff. Since the talks were taking place on the executive floor, in all likelihood Sophia wouldn't see Kaori during the course of the day, as she had done on the first two days of her visit, when she had been more directly involved.