Just for Fun

by Rosalind James

  Nothing had happened, she reminded herself again. She’d had a bad dating moment, that was all. But it would be a long time before she invited anyone else back to the flat, she knew. That had felt too close.

  Chapter 20

  Emma was thankful, the next day, that she and Zack had tickets for the semifinal. It wasn’t just that she needed something else to think about. She’d felt jumpy and tense all day, had found herself double-checking that the front door was locked. She’d wished she could ring Lucy, but her sister had gone away for the weekend with Tom, and Emma hated to break in on that. Nothing had happened, she scolded herself. Ryan wasn’t coming back. It was all over. But she was still relieved when it was time to leave the flat and head into the City.

  If she’d been looking for something to distract her, the first half of the game certainly provided it. She let her breath out with a whoosh and sat back with a grateful thump as the teams trotted off to the sheds at the start of the halftime break.

  “It’s awfully tight,” Jenna said beside her. Emma had barely spoken to Finn Douglas’s heavily pregnant wife before. Tonight, though, she’d chosen to sit close to the kids, and that was where Jenna always seemed to be.

  “I’m afraid this one’s going to be close all the way,” Jenna went on. “There’s a lot of desire out there on both sides, it seems to me.” She leaned to the left to have a word with her children, then was back with Emma again. “Sophie’s pretty worried,” she explained. “It’s always such a physical battle with the South African teams.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, the Stormers are living up to that tradition,” Emma agreed. “I don’t know as much about rugby as you do. Mostly what Zack tells me, and he’s six, so . . .”

  Jenna smiled, and Emma realized that what she had first taken for standoffishness was probably just shyness. “Sophie’s been my tutor,” the other woman confessed. “And Finn would laugh at the idea that I know a lot about rugby.”

  “He sure seems like he can keep up with anyone in a physical battle. He’s been all over the field tonight. Even I’ve noticed that. And boy, does he tackle hard. I’d hate to be on the receiving end of all that size and ferocity.”

  “He is impressive, isn’t he?” Jenna beamed with pride. “He works so hard out there. But I’m sorry, I’m bragging. I can’t help it. I love watching him play.”

  “You’re entitled. How’re you doing, though? How long to go?”

  Jenna sighed. “A week. Or an eternity. Take your pick.”

  “Any action so far?”

  “Not at all. And it’s getting pretty hard to wait,” Jenna admitted. “I made a pact with myself not to complain, because this is what I’ve wanted most in the world. But it’s getting pretty hard to keep it.”

  Emma had to laugh at that one. “Zack was ten days late,” she confided. “Good thing I hadn’t made any pacts. The broken pieces would’ve been everywhere. Can I do anything, though? Take the kids for you tomorrow, maybe?”

  “That’s so kind,” Jenna said, her eyes filling with what Emma recognized as hormonal tears. “Sophie’s having some special time with her dad tomorrow, actually. They have a lunch date. Doing a little shopping, too. Mysterious shopping. I have a feeling I’m going to be getting a baby present of my very own. Would you and Zack consider coming over to visit Harry and me instead? I’d like the company. And the distraction.”

  “I’d love to,” Emma said gratefully. More time out of the house, just what she needed. “They do seem to be getting on well.”

  “Six is a nice age. Harry’s surprisingly uninterested in rugby,” Jenna cautioned, “but he loves Legos, if that would interest Zack.”

  “Legos would go over big.”

  “Bring your walking shoes, and we’ll take the boys up Mt. Eden first.”

  “Are you up for something that steep?” Emma asked in surprise.

  Jenna laughed. “I said I was trying not to complain. I never promised anything about not trying to help speed up the process.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” Emma puffed as she labored up the steep Mt. Eden hillside the next day behind Jenna, the two boys having run ahead. Zack was still so pumped up about the Blues’ tough win in the semifinal, it was good for him to run out some of that energy.

  “This is my back garden,” Jenna explained, not sounding nearly as winded as she ought to be. She really had to increase her aerobic workouts, Emma decided. She was getting outperformed here by the nine-months-pregnant.

  “And I used to run this almost every day,” Jenna continued. “I stopped at about six months. Just too much of me bouncing around, and hitting the ground again. Now I’m mostly swimming and walking, along with some gym stuff. I miss the running. This walk is good because I get the sweating thing too, get my heart rate up. I need that.”

  “All righty then,” Emma said wryly, regaining her breath as they reached the summit at last. “I just wanted to float on my back at that stage, but whatever.”

  “I know!” Jenna agreed. “Especially because I feel huge. I tell Finn that’s why I married him. Because no matter how big I get with this baby, he’s still going to outweigh me.”

  “I never thought of that,” Emma laughed. “The hidden benefit of rugby players.”

  “What are you making now?” Jenna asked when they were sitting in her wonderfully comfortable big kitchen, having a cup of herbal tea after a lunch of homemade chicken-vegetable soup, salad, and what Emma deeply suspected had been homemade rolls as well. The boys were happily immersed in Legos, Zack having been suitably awed by Harry’s collection.

  “A jacket,” Emma explained, holding up the black rectangle on her needles. “I’m just doing the back now, so it’s hard to see. But here.” She reached down and pulled the drawing out of her bag. “What do you think?”

  “Oh, it’s so cute!” Jenna exclaimed at the sight of the black zip jacket with its multicolored stripes on sleeves, hood, and sweatshirt-style pockets. “Did you design this?”

  “Yeah,” Emma said with her usual mix of embarrassment and pride. “The big news is, this is the first design I’ve done in CAD. Isn’t that ironic? I only realized I could do that after Hannah set me up with an interview at her company. All these years of knitting and designing and being a CAD operator, and it’s never occurred to me that I could use it that way.”

  “She mentioned that to me,” Jenna said. “That she’d passed your name on, I mean. But I don’t understand what it is. What is CAD?”

  “Computer-Aided Design,” Emma explained. “It’s how all engineering designs are done now, of course. But it turns out it’s how you do clothing design as well.”

  “So did the interview go well? If you’re practicing?”

  “Fingers crossed. So yeah, I’ve been studying up. It wouldn’t pay as well, and I wouldn’t have been able to consider it, before. But now . . .” Emma stopped. “My situation’s got a bit better recently,” she went on. “Which makes it possible to take a pay cut, especially if it means I’d enjoy what I did. And if I could help with designs . . . Boy,” she sighed, “I’d love that.”

  “It sure sounds like more fun to me,” Jenna agreed. “Cute little-girl clothes instead of, what? Buildings?”

  “Oh, not just buildings. You’ve got your sewer tunnels, too,” Emma said seriously, prompting a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Plus, the idea of working with people who like clothes. And . . .” she hesitated again, wondering how much was all right to share. “Being taken seriously,” she said cautiously.

  “Which doesn’t happen now?” Jenna asked, reaching to refill Emma’s cup.

  “No. I’m too . . . female, I guess.”

  “Too pretty,” Jenna translated. “And they can’t see beyond the way you look.”

  “That’s how it seems to me, anyway. I’m girly, I know it. I guess I could get some glasses I don’t need. Cut my hair short. Wear more black.”

  “Heaven forbid. That’s the last thing Auckland needs, another woman in black. And
what is this, 1980? You shouldn’t have to wear pinstriped suits with shoulder pads to be taken seriously.”

  “Anyway.” Jenna lifted her teacup and clinked it against Emma’s. “Here’s to knitwear, and knitwear jobs. And to being a woman. And I wanted to tell you, along those lines, that you’ve done such a good job with Zack. He’s a really nice boy.”

  “Thanks. I’ve done my best, but it hasn’t always been easy.”

  “You’re a single mum, I think,” Jenna said hesitantly.

  “Since the beginning.”

  “That isn’t easy, I know it. I was raised by a single mum myself, since the beginning. Who didn’t do all that well, so I know the difference.”

  “Yeah. We lived with my sister till Zack was almost four. That was better, but it’s still not quite the same. Lucy’s great—better than a lot of actual partners, I’ll bet—but Zack isn’t her kid, bottom line.”

  “It’s hard to have all that responsibility on your shoulders,” Jenna said. “Sometimes, when Finn’s gone for a long stretch, and I’m feeling sorry for myself, I think, this is like being a single mum. And then I realize that it isn’t even close. Because I have his support, and I know he’s coming home to me again. I’m not in it by myself.”

  “I’m sorry. That was insensitive,” she realized in horror. “Blame the overemotional pregnancy thing. I keep blurting out things I shouldn’t say at all.”

  “No,” Emma protested. “There’s nothing wrong with saying that. Because that’s exactly it. How much the . . . the last resort you are. It’s a relief to have somebody understand. And I’m happy for you. I really am.”

  “But I’d better round Zack up, and get on with our errands,” she said, finishing her row and shoving her knitting back into her bag. “We’re stopping by the Warehouse, since we’re over here. High-end shopping,” she smiled ruefully. “At least I know I won’t be tempted by any fabulous clothes.”

  “Thanks for coming to visit,” Jenna said. “I appreciate your hauling Zack all the way over here.”

  “Thank you for inviting me. I was surprised, actually,” Emma confessed.

  “It can be a little intimidating,” Jenna said. “Sitting with the wives and girlfriends. Even though they’re great,” she hastened to add. “But it can still be awkward. Not knowing if you fit in. If they’ll accept you.”

  “Exactly!” Emma exclaimed. “That’s exactly it! How did you know?”

  Jenna smiled a bit sadly. “Oh, I learned that the same way I’ve learned everything else in my life. The hard way.”

  She gave Emma a warm hug at the door as she saw the two of them out. “I’m so glad you came to visit me,” she told her. “And that I’ve had the chance to get to know Zack. Come back and see me again, when I have a baby to show you. Because I have a feeling that we have a lot in common.”

  Chapter 21

  “Ready for a hot chocolate?” Nic asked Zack as they changed out of their rugby boots on Monday afternoon.

  “Yeh. I’m starved!” Zack said. “Can I have a muffin too?”

  “Your mum got a bit stroppy with me last time we did that,” Nic reminded him. “Better not, not before dinner. I’m invited, remember. Don’t want her to change her mind, turf me out.”

  Zack sighed. “OK. But a marshmallow?”

  “Definitely a marshmallow,” Nic agreed.

  When they were sitting at a table in the tiny café next to the Domain, though, he saw that Zack wasn’t quite as interested in his hot chocolate as usual. Instead, he kept looking up at Nic doubtfully.

  “Got something on my face?” Nic asked, wiping his mouth with a paper serviette. “Or is it something on your mind?”

  “D’you think you could lend me some money?” Zack asked him. “But I’m not sure how much,” he added honestly. “How much does a cricket bat cost? It doesn’t have to be a flash one. Maybe on Trade Me? Mum gets heaps of things on Trade Me.”

  “Course,” Nic said automatically. “Didn’t realize you didn’t have one. Why d’you need it, though, this time of year? Thought you were focusing on the footy, for now. By the time you’re using it, you may not fit it anymore.”

  “In case,” Zack said obscurely.

  “In case what?” Nic was bewildered now. “In case somebody asks you to play cricket this winter? Someone without a bat?”

  “Nah. In case I have to protect Mum from a Bad Guy.”

  “You been watching those orcs again, eh,” Nic guessed. “They aren’t real, mate. Your mum’s all right.”

  “I’m not a baby,” Zack said impatiently. “I know there aren’t really orcs. A real Bad Guy. In our flat.”

  “There’s not likely to be a Bad Guy in your flat, surely,” Nic said. “It’s Northcote, not Darfur.”

  Zack looked at him blankly. “Huh?”

  “I mean,” Nic went on, “you live in a pretty good area. And I think your mum can keep you both safe. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “But I do,” Zack insisted. “She said she wasn’t, but she was scared. Because that guy was bad. He was yelling. He said the f word. And I think he hurt her. She has a really big bruise. I saw. And Mum’s not very big, you know. Not for a grownup, she isn’t.”

  “What?” Nic stared at him. “When was this? What happened?”

  Zack’s explanation only made him more confused. And worried. And more and more enraged.

  “So will you lend me the money? And help me get it? Or can you buy me a bat, on Trade Me?” Zack finished. “I don’t know how to do it. And they don’t let kids anyway. Mum always does it for me. I’ll pay you back, I promise,” he went on hurriedly. “Only I spent all my money when I bought my Legos. I don’t know how much bats cost. But if it wasn’t too much?”

  “I’ll buy you a bat,” Nic assured him. “But I don’t want you to worry about this. Because I’m going to get it sorted. No Bad Guy’s going to hurt your mum again. That’s my promise.”

  “The other night. What happened?” he asked Emma when he was sure Zack was in the bath. He was leaning against the kitchen bench following a simple dinner of lamb chops and green beans, drying with a tea towel as Emma washed up at the dented stainless steel sink.

  “What other night?” she asked in confusion.

  He gestured impatiently with his towel. “Don’t try to pretend. Zack told me. Something about a Bad Guy. Somebody who was in here, yelling. He was scared. He’s worried about you.”

  She plunged her hands into the soapy water again, scrubbed hard at a plate, dropping her head so her hair fell over her face. “I hoped I’d convinced him I was all right. Because I was. Nothing happened.”

  “Who was it?” he persisted. “And what did happen? It was something, or he wouldn’t have been so worried.”

  “It was . . . somebody I dated, Friday night. Somebody from the office. We came back here. I was thinking . . .” She turned to him at last, flushing with what seemed oddly like embarrassment. “I wasn’t planning to do much. I wouldn’t anyway, not with Zack here. He said I led him on. Maybe I did, saying yes to giving him a cup of tea, letting him in. It was stupid of me, I know. I knew something was off, and I did it anyway. I can’t believe I got myself into that situation. And Zack too.” She reached for a glass, swished the scrub brush around, but Nic could see that her hands were trembling. “But I’d been out with him before. I work with him. I know him. At least I thought I did.”

  “Inviting somebody in for a cuppa doesn’t give him any rights.” He was choking the life out of the tea towel, he realized. Forced himself to relax his grip. “You invited me, that first night here. I didn’t jump you, and we have a history. What happened? Where’s this bruise? Show me.”

  “He didn’t do it,” Emma protested. “Well, not exactly. It was me, hitting the coffee table. When I was trying to get away. I fell.”

  “Show me,” he commanded again.

  She sighed. Pulled off her rubber gloves and laid them across the sink, then pulled down one shoulder of her sweater. An ugly pa
tch about seven or eight centimeters across, he judged, on the outer edge of her shoulder blade, outside the thin ribbon of bra strap. Gone to black and blue now, three days later. Easy to see how the corner of the table had caught her there. And how hard she must have hit it.

  “If you did it getting away from him, he did it,” he said, pushing down the rage. She didn’t need to see that. “Who was this?”

  He got the story out of her in pieces. “Nothing happened, though,” she insisted at the end of her recital. “I don’t know why I’m still so upset.” She rinsed off the last pieces of silverware, handed them to him to dry.

  “You thought he was going to rape you. A pretty good reason to be upset, seems to me.” He hung the towel over its rack and turned to face her. “Because it scared the hell out of you, didn’t it?”

  She nodded, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes, the tremble of her mouth. “Aw, hell.” He finally allowed himself to put his arms around her. Felt her soften against his chest, the tears starting. Held her until she pulled away again, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just . . . I’ve felt so stupid for what happened, and for being so scared.”

  “You have nothing to feel stupid about, though,” he insisted in frustration. “Zack’s right, he was a Bad Guy. How the hell were you meant to know that? And of course you were scared. You had every reason to be. But you don’t have to be scared anymore. That’s one thing I can fix, at least. Give me your phone.”

  “What?” she asked in confusion.

  “Your phone. Your mobile. Let me see it.”

  She fetched it from the corner of the bench where she’d set it earlier, handed it to him in wordless confusion.

  “Why don’t you even have a smartphone?” he asked.

  “I don’t need it. Or to pay for the data plan. I’m at work all day, and otherwise I mostly just text. This works fine.”