Two's Company

by Jill Mansell

  Donny had felt sorry for Pandora, who didn’t appear to have much choice in the matter. It was also why he had decided to drop in on her today. Someone had to, after all, and he was fond of his nephews and nieces. He had even been known to change the odd colorful diaper himself.

  He gazed down now at the baby squirming on the rug. Her name was Rose, though Sean still called her It.

  “Isn’t she brilliant?” Pandora was totally besotted with her daughter. “We had a bit of trouble with colic at first, but she’s over that now. Look, she’s smiling at you. I say, you are honored. She hardly ever smiles at Sean.”

  Probably because he’s never here long enough to be smiled at, thought Donny. Entranced by the buttery softness of the baby’s skin, he eased himself down next to her and stroked her bare brown stomach. Rose gurgled with delight and seized his index finger, grasping it ferociously with both hands.

  “What can I get you?” asked Pandora. “Cup of tea, lemonade, or a drink-drink?”

  Donny shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  “If you’re looking for Sean, I’m afraid he isn’t here.” Pandora had jumped to her feet anyway and was heading for the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she called, “He’s at the club.”

  He wasn’t. Donny, who had just come from there, said, “Maybe I’ll have a cup of tea after all.”

  She returned minutes later with three vast mugs.

  “One for you, two for me.” Pandora looked almost apologetic. “I’m thirsty.”

  “Because of the breastfeeding.” Donny, who had five sisters, gave a knowledgeable nod. “That’s how you’ve managed to lose so much weight so quickly. Am I allowed to tell you how great you look?”

  He wasn’t exaggerating. Pandora must weigh less now than she had a year ago. The pert curves of her bottom and thighs were balanced by new and fetchingly voluptuous breasts. As the extra pounds had melted away, so Pandora’s delicate bone structure had reasserted itself. Her eyes looked bigger, her neck longer.

  If he tried, Donny thought, he could probably get his hands around her waist.

  Pandora looked delighted at the compliment. “Say it as often as you like.”

  Donny obliged. “You look great.”

  Pandora’s smile faded. “Maybe you should tell Sean instead. He doesn’t appear to have noticed.”

  On the rug, Rose was making strenuous efforts to roll over onto her stomach.

  “Of course he has.” Fibbing on Sean’s behalf as well as Pandora’s, Donny gave Rose the helping hand she needed. “He’s always going on about how brilliantly you’re managing and how fantastic you look.” The lie began to expand, like making popcorn. “And he’s crazy about Rose, never stops talking about her…”

  “Oh dear,” said Pandora regretfully. “Just as I was beginning to believe you too.”

  Rose was making futile attempts to swim across the rug. Donny pressed his palm against the soles of her furiously flailing feet.

  “Well, it’s what he should be doing.”

  “Instead of touring the nightclubs,” Pandora remarked, “and coming home reeking of other women’s perfume. I don’t know.” She sighed. It was pointless, but she couldn’t resist saying it. “Why do they always have to wear such bloody obnoxious perfume? Why can’t he ever choose someone who smells normal?”

  “He’s a mate,” said Donny, “but I don’t always like him.”

  “Snap.”

  “But you’re still here.”

  He could have no idea, Pandora thought, how helpless and lacking in confidence she had felt throughout her pregnancy. Coping with a colicky, screaming newborn had been no picnic either.

  Aloud, she said, “I suppose I feel I owe it to Rose. To do my best anyway. Whatever happens, Sean’s still her father.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t until twenty minutes later when Pandora fell asleep almost in midsentence that Donny realized how tired she still was. Waking with a start as a car at the front backfired, she apologized profusely.

  Donny, who hadn’t meant to stay longer than ten minutes, heard himself saying firmly, “Don’t you dare be sorry. Babies are exhausting. Look, why don’t you go up to bed and have a proper sleep? I’ll look after Rose.”

  “Oh, that’s really kind.” Pandora hesitated, almost as if afraid to say it. “But what I’d most love is a bath. Rose always yells her head off, you see, the moment I get into the water. If you could just entertain her down here for half an hour, a proper uninterrupted bath would be such bliss…”

  Bloody Sean, never here. Donny, wandering into the kitchen with Rose tucked frog-like against his shoulder, listened to the taps running upstairs. There had been tears in Pandora’s eyes as she had accepted his offer. Exhausted by five-times-a-night feeding and the constant attention Rose demanded during the day, she was ready to drop. Donny looked at the dishes waiting to be dealt with, then turned away. There was such a thing as going too far.

  Making his way through to the sitting room instead, he began to suspect Rose might not be on his side. Having evidently decided to put to the test his proud boast to be able to cope with anything, she had promptly filled her diaper. Donny pulled a face. Rose, thrilled by the contrast between his black face and white-and-gold teeth, let out a squeal of delight and tugged one of his dreadlocks.

  But the changing kit was all to hand in a squashy lilac-and-green zip-up bag, recognizable because it was the same as the one his sisters had passed around between them. Feeling profoundly capable, Donny began unloading wet wipes, cotton balls, baby lotion, a changing mat, and a clean diaper. If he worked really fast, maybe he wouldn’t need to draw breath.

  He found the diary, quite by chance, at the very bottom of the bag as he was shoveling everything back. Realizing it had been hidden there deliberately, Donny experienced a brief spasm of guilt before opening it. But some things were simply too irresistible to pass up. And a diary belonging to Sean’s woefully neglected girlfriend was definitely one of them.

  * * *

  So this is it, thought Cass, sitting alone at the kitchen table and gazing at the piece of paper in her hands. This is what a divorce decree looks like. This is how one signals the end of twenty-two years of marriage.

  Glad to be on her own, gladder still that it had arrived after she had left for work, she closed her eyes and thought of Jack. All those years, all that shared history, dissolved into nothingness like a puff of smoke.

  Cass wondered if he would marry Imogen now. She wondered if she would ever meet anyone and actually want to marry again. She had tried to envisage being married to Rory Cameron and—as ever—failed abysmally. It was an image that stubbornly refused to materialize. Cass shivered. Her whole future, it seemed, was one big scary blank.

  Just as her throat began to tighten, the phone rang. Cass’s hand trembled as she picked it up.

  “Hi, it’s me.” Jack, of all people. “Did you get it?”

  The paper was still in Cass’s hand. She looked at it once more, then glanced out the kitchen window. The sun was still shining, and the sky was still Mediterranean blue. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. It really had been the most glorious day.

  “I got it.”

  “Me too.” Jack sounded odd, almost hesitant. “Um…are you OK?”

  “Fabulous.” Buggered if she was going to let him think otherwise, Cass straightened her shoulders. “I mean, it’s hardly a surprise, is it? We knew it was going to happen.”

  But Jack knew her too well. Not fooled for a second by her show of bravado, he said, “Come on. It still feels strange. I feel strange.”

  “Get Imogen to give you one of her famous herbal body rubs.”

  “Cass, don’t.” Her bitchy tone only convinced him how upset she was underneath. “Are you on your own? Is Sophie there?”

  “Yes.” Sophie was spending the night with a friend from school.


  “Put her on for a second.”

  “She doesn’t want to speak to you,” said Cass.

  “That means she isn’t there.” Jack sighed. “Look, will you have dinner with me tonight?”

  It was the last thing Cass had been expecting him to say. The receiver nearly slid from her hand in shock.

  “Dinner? What for?”

  Jack, who wasn’t sure himself, said, “Why not? We can be civilized about this, can’t we? I’d like to take you to dinner.”

  “Ah, but would Imogen like you to take me to dinner?”

  “It doesn’t matter whether Imogen likes it or not. I’m the one inviting you.” Jack paused. Imogen didn’t know yet. “Unless you have something else on.”

  “Let me check my schedule.” Cass tried not to sound overjoyed. She had no other plans, and the prospect of irritating Imogen was too delicious to pass up. Besides, at least now she would be spending the evening with someone who understood how she felt. “Ah, I do appear to be free…”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  To seem casual, Cass said, “Make it eight thirty.”

  Chapter 43

  Pandora, making the most of the heaven-sent opportunity, spent almost an hour in the bath. When she finally made her way back downstairs, relaxed, scented, and changed into a kingfisher-blue cotton shirt and jogging pants, she found Donny stretched out across the sofa. Rose, her legs tucked beneath her, lay fast asleep on his chest.

  “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been ages.” Pandora tried and failed to sound apologetic. “That was possibly the best bath of my life.”

  “Should have given me a shout.” Donny looked amused. “I could have come up and scrubbed your back.”

  “Shall I take her off you?” Pandora held out her hands as Rose, snuffling contentedly, shifted position in her sleep.

  “No need. We’re both comfortable.”

  “I really didn’t mean to take so long. She might need changing.”

  Donny shrugged. “It’s OK. She did. I’ve already dealt with it.”

  “Good heavens.” Startled, Pandora sat down in a chair opposite him. Warily, she said, “No…problem at all?”

  “No problems. We aren’t all like Sean, you know.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  With a jolt, Donny realized he fancied Pandora Grant like mad.

  “You seem nervous,” he observed in casual fashion.

  “No…”

  “Almost as if you had something to hide.”

  Pandora gave him a searching look and said nothing.

  “In the bottom of that diaper bag for example,” he continued remorselessly.

  “Oh, you complete bastard!” Pandora wailed. “I can’t believe you did that! Not again.”

  “It was Rose’s fault.” Donny pointed down at the baby asleep on his chest. “If she hadn’t needed to have her diaper changed…”

  Pandora, still groaning, slumped back in her chair.

  “I thought it was a safe place to keep it. God knows Sean was never likely to find it there.”

  “Ah well. As I said—”

  “I know, you’re not Sean.” Pandora clapped her hands over her eyes as Donny pulled the diary out from behind the cushions wedged between him and the back of the sofa. “Well, thanks. I hope you realize how embarrassing this is.” Her eyes were bright. “You do know, don’t you, that if you didn’t have my daughter plastered to your front, I’d kill you?”

  “Why do you suppose I didn’t hand her over just now?” Donny cupped the baby’s padded bottom in the palm of his hand. “She’s my human shield, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  “She never stays asleep like that for me.” Pandora looked perplexed. “I don’t understand why she hasn’t woken up.”

  “It’s the timbre of my voice.” Smugly, Donny explained. “My big, black, male voice. Babies like the way it vibrates against their chest. It’s—”

  “Comforting. OK, OK,” said Pandora, “so you’re Mary Poppins in dreadlocks. You’re still a complete bastard. I wish I’d never had that bath now.”

  “Oh, cheer up.” Donny’s smile broadened. “How was I to know what it was going to be? I thought it was a diary.”

  “So of course you had to have a nose.”

  He shrugged, unperturbed. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

  “I still can’t believe you’ve done this twice,” said Pandora in despair.

  Donny realized he’d teased her enough. As if sensing as much, the baby began to stir. Tiny starfish fingers flexed and unflexed. Donny stroked the dark, downy, perfectly formed head and for a moment wished Rose could have been his daughter instead.

  Then he looked across at Pandora. “I’ve read it. All of it. It’s brilliant.”

  Unable to meet his gaze, she stared at the floor. “No, it isn’t.”

  Lightly teasing her, Donny said, “Oh yes, it is.”

  “I don’t like being patronized.” A fierce pride burned in Pandora’s eyes. “I won’t be made fun of. And it was private…”

  The baby, ready for her next feeding, began to whimper. Donny pulled himself up into a sitting position and jiggled her against his shoulder. A ribbon of dribble hung between Rose’s fretful mouth and the neck of his white T-shirt.

  “I’m not patronizing you,” he told Pandora. “I mean it. If I’d thought it was crap, I wouldn’t even have said anything. I’d have read a few pages, shoved it back in the bag, and pretended I’d never seen it.”

  Pandora didn’t look convinced. The last time had been humiliating enough. Once bitten, Donny realized, twice terminally suspicious. He tried again.

  “Look, I’m serious. That last script of yours…well, it wasn’t as bad as we made out. I felt pretty mean afterward, making fun of it like that. All I can say is we’d had a few drinks at the club, and when Sean started making his cutting remarks, it was easier to go along with him than start an argument.”

  Pandora, slowly beginning to believe him, thought of all the pages of script she had ripped to shreds and hurled into the garbage.

  “You mean what I’d written was good? Funny?”

  “Some of it was good. Not great,” Donny added hastily, “but not as bad as we made out.”

  Pandora looked crestfallen. “Oh.”

  “The thing is, you’ve learned from your mistakes. This”—Donny tapped the diary—“is bloody good. And I do mean that. It’s fast, funny, original. It works.” He paused. “Do you still think I’m bullshitting you?”

  Pandora, seemingly unable to speak, shook her head. Rose, gripped by real hunger pangs now, let out an indignant bellow.

  “OK, first things first. Feed this baby.” Donny passed the bawling infant across to her. Sensing Pandora’s hesitation, he said, “Go upstairs if you want to, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m not embarrassed if you aren’t.”

  Pandora smiled slightly, sat back down, and undid a couple of buttons of the blue shirt. Within seconds, silence reigned once more.

  For the second time, Donny found himself wishing he was Rose’s father. Sean certainly didn’t deserve her. Sean didn’t deserve either of them.

  “Second things second,” he announced, dragging his attention back to the contents of the diary in his hand. “Would you like me to help you? See if we can’t get this thing off the ground?”

  Cautiously, Pandora nodded.

  “What about Sean?” said Donny. “Do you want him to see it?”

  “No.” This time, she was adamant. “I’d rather this was between us.”

  That suited Donny. He tried to tell himself his motives were pure. Sweat prickled at the base of his neck.

  “Right, so we need to get this lot typed up.” He waved the diary at her. Between its mock-leather crimson covers were two hundred or so pages of closely written script, roughly six half-hour episodes, he es
timated, of the kind of ground-breaking TV sitcom that might just end up being heralded as the new Gavin and Stacey. That Pandora had even dared to write it following Sean’s lacerating verdict on her first attempt said something positive about her character. As far as Donny was concerned, she just went up and up in his estimation. He thought she was an all-around bloody miracle.

  “Um,” said Pandora, “I can’t type.”

  “Not a problem.” There was no stopping Donny now. “One of my sisters can do it. And we’re going to need a synopsis,” he went on. “Two or three thousand words should be enough.”

  Pandora pulled a face. “I don’t get much spare time. I wrote all that stuff before Rose was born.”

  Donny grinned. “In that case, I’ll just have to help out. Call me when the coast is clear, and I’ll come over. In disguise if you like. This could be fun.”

  For an uncomfortable second, Pandora wondered whether she should be keeping this kind of secret from Sean. Then she reminded herself how he had reacted last time. He would only get annoyed again and poke fun at her efforts.

  No, Pandora decided, far better to wait until she actually had something to show for it, something concrete to boast about. That is, if it ever actually happened.

  * * *

  Sean, arriving home minutes later, wasn’t thrilled by what he found. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Donny, wearing a white T-shirt and strategically ripped jeans, sprawled easily across the gray sofa, looking as if he was having the time of his life.

  They narrowed further still when he realized what was going on beneath Pandora’s bright blue shirt. How could she sit there, feeding that damn baby, as if it were the most natural thing in the world? Didn’t she know how she looked? Sean’s lip curled in disgust. For God’s sake, didn’t she realize what Donny Mulligan was like?

  “What is this, feeding time at the zoo?”

  He glanced meaningfully across at Pandora, signaling her to stop it at once and make herself decent. Why she couldn’t feed Rose from a bottle was beyond him. Why she was looking so clear-eyed and bloody pleased with herself was more of a mystery still.