Just for Fun

by Rosalind James

  “That was then, and this is now. What has he done, these past months, that’s been less than honorable? What?”

  “Nothing. That you know of,” Lucy pointed out.

  “And what do I know now?” Emma challenged her. “I know what Claudia’s mum said, which wasn’t true. He’s rung me almost every night he’s been gone. Including when he was in Wellington. Maybe there are men out there who can hook up with some girl, and then ring their partners a half hour later to say ‘I love you,’ but Nic isn’t one of them.”

  “Bottom line,” she told her sister. “I can believe the man I love, who’s given me absolutely no reason to doubt him these past months, and who needs me right now. Or some woman I’ve never met, making allegations that don’t even sound like Nic. ‘We talked all night?’” she quoted furiously. “‘He just wanted to be comforted?’ Nic? Not bloody likely. If I need proof she doesn’t really know him, there it is right there.”

  “You need to think harder about this,” Lucy cautioned. “You need to stop and think it through before you make this kind of decision. You can’t just jump in impulsively here, Em, the way you do. I think Nic needs to prove himself.”

  “And I know he already has. This isn’t impulsivity. This is trusting my own judgment for once, and trusting Nic too. But the reason I rang you,” Emma went on when Lucy would have argued, “is to ask if you’d take Zack for a couple hours tomorrow morning, while I go in to work and get that squared away.”

  “Get it squared away?” Lucy asked dubiously. “How’s that going to go over?”

  “Like a lead balloon, I expect,” Emma admitted. “But I can’t worry about that.”

  She was at Lucy’s door before seven the next morning, holding Zack by the hand.

  “You’re early,” Lucy said with surprise. “I couldn’t see how you’d do this, with packing and everything.”

  “I did everything last night. Everything’s in the car, ready to go.”

  Lucy looked at her more closely. “All night? Did you get any sleep at all?”

  “Not much,” Emma admitted. “I tried, but I just couldn’t. And I was all fired up last night, but now I can’t help worrying. You know Roger’s going to make it as difficult as possible. He’s going to be furious.”

  “Tough,” Lucy said roundly. “Sometimes life happens, and I’d say this is definitely one of those times.”

  “So you aren’t angry with me, still?”

  “It’s your decision, not mine,” Lucy said reluctantly. “I don’t want to see you hurt again, that’s all. But you know best.”

  “That’s right,” Emma said, straightening her shoulders. “I do. I really do.” She bent to give Zack a hug and kiss goodbye. “I’ll be back on the 8:45 ferry,” she told him. “And then we’ll be off.”

  “To the airport, right?” Zack asked anxiously. “We’re going to be with Nic?”

  “We sure are. Just as soon as I go in and get my work figured out, and talk to Roger about needing this week.”

  It didn’t turn out to be as simple as that, however. “I know it’s unexpected,” she told Roger as they stood by his desk. She tried to make her tone businesslike instead of pleading. She hated explaining, telling him about her private life, but she couldn’t see any way around it. “You will’ve seen the news. Nic’s going through a hard time, and he needs us. And I need to go be with him.”

  “Go anywhere you like,” Roger said, his pale scalp reddening. “But if you leave here today—again—don’t plan on coming back afterwards. How’m I meant to get all this lot done without you? Are we supposed to tell our clients that your boyfriend needed you so he could kick the ball straight? What, you’re vitally important to the squad? They can’t win without you? It’s been clear to me from the start that you can’t decide if you’re a mum or a CAD operator. Now you’ve found something else that your feminine sensibilities are telling you to put above your work. What’s next, you need to stay home because you have PMT?”

  “You’re not allowed to say that, and you know it,” Emma said angrily. “And I’m not making any such choice. You’re the one putting it that way. All right, I don’t get the perfect attendance award like you. Because I have a son, and a damn life. But I get more done than anyone else, you know I do. And I haven’t missed any more time than Sean. Probably less, in fact. I’ve never used more than my benefit, other than that one year when Zack and I both had flu. We couldn’t help that, and we can’t help this either. I’ve sure never missed work because I was hungover, unlike plenty of people in this office. You can’t say I don’t put my work first. And you can’t do this.”

  “I can’t give you the sack for walking out on me without notice?” Roger asked incredulously. “Too right I can.”

  “No.” She could feel her hands trembling, her breath coming fast, but she looked Roger straight in the pale blue, protuberant eye. He looked like a cane toad, she decided. An ugly, nasty, warty cane toad. She was shaky with exhaustion and emotion. Furious. And, suddenly, just plain fed up. She’d had enough of Roger, of this place, of this job that sucked her soul dry every single day. “You can’t. Because I quit. You’ve wanted to get rid of me from Day One. Because I’m better than you, and you know it. You’re jealous, and you’re a bully, and you’re pathetic, and you’re a . . . a lousy manager. So you know what? You can take this job and shove it straight up your ass! Because I quit!”

  Roger gaped at her, his lips actually quivering with rage. Emma saw Sean stifling a fit of the giggles behind him. Others had turned to gawk as well, now. She stalked to her desk, grabbed the framed photo of Zack. What else did she need from here? Not a damn thing. Let the next unlucky occupant have the bottle of Panadol. Lord knew they’d need it.

  “Don’t think you’ll ever work here again, after this,” Roger recovered himself enough to shout across the room. “You come crawling back here asking for your job back, you’re going to find it’s long gone.”

  “No worries,” Emma snapped with all the contempt she’d stored up during this last long year. “I’m going on to bigger and better things. You’re going to be hearing about me someday. I’m going to be somebody. And all you’re ever going to be is an asshole.”

  She grabbed her purse and got out of the building as fast as she could. Made it all the way onto the ferry before she burst into tears.

  Chapter 39

  “Nico. You’ll want to see this,” Nic heard the moment he stepped back into the hotel room. He’d taken advantage of the time apart from the team to take a walk through Green Park, past Buckingham Palace. Trying to calm himself, regain his composure.

  “What now?” he asked, the fatigue he’d barely shaken enveloping him again at the sight of Koti holding up his laptop. What else could happen today? he thought bitterly. Was he going to hear about some girl in Argentina now?

  “Nah, mate. This is good news,” Koti promised. “C’mon, and I’ll show you.” He waited impatiently for Nic to pull his shoes off, then went with him into his bedroom, handed him the laptop as he sat down on the bed. “Check out the video,” he commanded.

  “Claudia. What the hell,” Nic began, then stopped short at what she was saying. He let the clip play out for its entire short duration, then went back to the beginning, played it again to make sure he’d understood correctly.

  She sat there in front of the cameras, poised and beautiful as always, not a hair out of place. And defended him.

  “Nic was my partner for more than three years,” she said. “And no matter what you may have heard elsewhere, he never gave me any reason to doubt his commitment to me, or his fidelity. Yes, he discovered he had a child. And when he did, he took responsibility for his son, financially and otherwise. Our relationship didn’t work out, for reasons entirely unrelated to that.” Well, that bit wasn’t true. Never mind.

  “He had no physical relationship with his child’s mother while he was involved with me,” Claudia was saying now. “He even asked me to come along during any time he spent with the
two of them.” Which she hadn’t, but never mind that either. A few more sentences, and her statement was over, the screen going dark again.

  “I’d say your troubles are over, mate,” Koti said with a satisfied smile. “Well on their way, at least.”

  “Yeh,” Nic said slowly. “Zack and Emma are on their way here, that’s the main thing. Arriving late tonight, or early tomorrow, I should say.”

  “All that way?” Koti asked, startled. “That’s dedication.”

  “Nah. That’s Emma. She puts her heart on the line, and the rest of her goes right along with it. If she loves you, she’s in, boots and all. No half measures for Emma.”

  As soon as dinner was over that evening, he was back in the room again. Eight in the morning, Auckland time. Time to ring Claudia.

  “Nic.” The voice sounded the same as ever. Perfectly under control, beautifully modulated. Not surprised. Not exactly brimming with enthusiasm to talk to him, either.

  “Hi, Claud.” He stopped, not sure how to go on. “Just wanted to say, thanks,” he said lamely. “For what you said. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

  “You’re welcome. But I did it for myself, actually. I couldn’t stomach the idea of people being sorry for me. Poor Claudia, being dumped for somebody else. I was never angrier with Mum than after she did that. I’ve had a few words with her about it. Making me look like your fool.”

  “You’re not that. You were never that. You’re nobody’s fool. And whatever you say, it was still a decent thing to do, and a tough one too. And I appreciate it more than I can say.”

  “And now we’re done,” she said. “My mum did wrong, and I’ve done my best to make it right. I wish you well, but there’s no reason for us to talk again. Don’t ring me, and I won’t ring you.”

  It was one thing to make decisions in the heat of the moment, Emma found. And another thing entirely to think about them in the darkness of an airliner, her entire being dragging with exhaustion. Twenty-five hours in the air, two more spent slumped in a tiny waiting room at LAX between flight legs, Zack sleeping with his head in her lap. Nic had arranged for them to fly Business Select, to her immense relief, but even fold-flat beds and all the amenities couldn’t fix her internal clock, or still the dark thoughts that her racing mind insisted on producing. At least Zack had slept reasonably well, and the seatback movies had kept him entertained as well as a six-year-old could be on a flight that long. But by the time they had endured the endless wait that was British Customs, Emma felt ready to drop where she stood.

  “What time is it?” she asked the London cabbie who had loaded their bags into the boot before hopping back into the driver’s seat. She smoothed Zack’s hair, made sure his seatbelt was fastened.

  “Just gone one,” he said cheerfully. “Long journey?”

  “From New Zealand,” she said wryly. “Yeah, pretty long.”

  He whistled. “Here for the Cup final, are you? No, what am I saying?” he decided. “You two can’t be Kiwi rugby fans. No resemblance whatsoever.”

  “That’s what we are, though,” she sighed.

  “Cor,” he said, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “I’d never’ve thought it.”

  She was half-asleep herself by the time he pulled up outside the big hotel and pulled her bags out, where they were immediately whisked away by a bellman. Tip, Emma fuzzily remembered. She’d been in New Zealand so long, she’d almost forgotten. She wrestled with the unfamiliar notes she’d changed back in the Auckland airport, what seemed like days ago. Paid the cabbie and remembered to tip the bellman as well.

  At last, they were in their room. She briefly considered a shower for Zack, then gave up and helped him into the big bed in one room of the suite she’d been astonished to find had been reserved for the two of them. Got his clothes off, opened his suitcase with hands that felt like they belonged to somebody else, and pulled on his pajamas. Then dragged herself into the shower, fell into her own wide, white bed, and dropped instantly down into bottomless slumber.

  A night’s sleep helped. And so did a note from Jenna, pushed under the door sometime before Emma woke up at nine the next morning, inviting the two of them out for an afternoon of sightseeing.

  “I’m so glad you’ve come,” the other woman said as she pulled Emma into another warm hug. A substantial English breakfast had done its work in restoring both Emma and Zack to reasonable spirits, a joyous reunion with Harry providing the bonus. The two boys were in the other bedroom of Jenna’s suite now, already engrossed in Legos.

  “Finn’s been keeping me updated on what’s been going on, and how hard it’s been for Nic,” Jenna continued, gesturing Emma to a seat on the couch and sinking down next to her, taking her hand. “It’s all so awful. Having Zack go missing . . .” She shuddered. “You poor thing. I can’t even imagine how horrible that must have been. And this other, this latest, that’s just doubly unfair. Especially because there’s nothing to it, Finn says. And he’d know,” she insisted. “He says Nic’s straight as a die. And as Finn’s the same way himself, you can believe him when he says that.”

  “Thanks,” Emma said. She’d teared up yet again at Jenna’s warm greeting, her defense of Nic, and now she wiped her eyes with a little laugh. “I appreciate that. But I trust Nic. I just wish there were somebody who could say that about him. To the press, I mean. Because he can’t defend himself. There’s really nothing he can say. ‘I didn’t do it, honestly?’ He can barely say that to me, let alone New Zealand.”

  “But somebody else did say that,” Jenna said with surprise. “Haven’t you heard?” She went on to explain Claudia’s surprise defense, and the effect it had had. “I’m not sure about his endorsements,” she finished. “Unfortunately, retractions never have the same sensational effect as revelations, do they? But at least he’s got some vindication out of it. And I know you must be dying to see him, after all this. But since it won’t be until tonight, we may as well go see the Tower of London, don’t you think?”

  Emma found herself enjoying the tour despite herself. She’d never been to the U.K.—had never been farther away, since moving to New Zealand, than the Fiji trip and a couple quick visits to Australia—and London was one big distraction. “Plus, we don’t have to worry about not looking right, and getting squished at the pedestrian crossings,” Jenna had pointed out cheerfully.

  Emma had been glad for the outing, for Zack as much as herself, and for Jenna and the children’s company during dinner that evening. But it was with a sense of immense relief that she shut the hotel room door at seven that evening and got Zack into the bath and then his pajamas. Nic had promised to join them as soon as he’d had his own dinner with the team. He’d only have a couple hours even then, he’d warned her. She didn’t care. She just wanted to see him, and hold him.

  When the knock finally came, she was sitting on the bed with Zack, reading to him as he held Raffo tight. She jumped at the sound, then dashed to the door and was with him at last. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the security of his arms until they were around her again and he was holding her tight, kissing her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

  Nic reached out for Zack, standing behind his mother and clutching Raffo. “Come here, mate. Come have a cuddle as well.” He pulled Zack into his arms, felt himself tearing up at the feeling of the small body pressed against his own. Stood back, finally, to look at the boy.

  “You’re all ready for bed, I see. What did you think of your first flight to the Northern Hemisphere?”

  “Long,” Zack said.

  “Yeh,” Nic had to laugh a bit at that. “Still want to be an All Black? I should warn you, you’d end up doing a fair few of those journeys in the course of a year.”

  Zack nodded. Still shy with him despite everything, Nic saw. “Come have a chat with me,” he told his son. He looked at Emma, saw the agreement on her face. “Show me where your bed is.”

  “Another big bed with heaps of pillows, eh,” he said, taking a seat on th
e edge of the bed and waiting while Zack climbed up to sit beside him. Then paused, not sure how to begin.

  “You’ve heard some things about me, I know, while I’ve been gone,” he told Zack at last. “And I know it’s got you a bit confused. That’s why I’m so glad you’re here with me now, so I can talk it over with you face to face, put things right.”

  Zack looked up at him doubtfully, held Raffo a bit closer. Nic saw his hands running over the giraffe’s little horns, pulling at the ears, and his heart twisted with pain for his boy.

  “For example,” he went on, “I know you heard somebody say that I didn’t want you. That I didn’t want you for my son.”

  Zack had his head bent now. Nic had to lean close to hear the words, spoken so softly. “You prob’ly wanted a different boy. Somebody who didn’t cry. Somebody brave, like you.”

  “Nah, mate,” Nic said around the constriction in his throat. “I wanted somebody exactly like you. Somebody who loves footy as much as I do. Somebody who loves his mum enough to ask me for a cricket bat so he can protect her from a Bad Guy. That’s the kind of brave boy I want. And that’s the kind I’ve got. Because you’re my boy. You’re my son, and you always will be. And dads always love their sons. That’s forever.”

  Zack turned to him, looked up at him. Tears were streaming down the little face, the eyes, so like Nic’s own, staring beseechingly into his. And then Nic was crying too, and pulling Zack to him, holding him close, the way he’d always wanted to.

  Emma looked cautiously in at the door. Nic looked up, laughed through the tears that were spilling down his own cheeks now. “Come on in,” he told her. “Come join this party. We’re just in here having a regular old father-son weepfest.”

  She came to sit on the other side of Zack, reached out to stroke his head. The boy’s sobs eased at last, and Emma got up and went into the bathroom, came out with a handful of tissues. She handed a batch to Nic with a smile, then cleaned Zack up, gave him a hug and kiss.