‘You look amazing.’ She really does look fresher.
‘Thanks. I’m pleased with it.’
‘Did you go to Bella’s?’
‘Yes, who’d have thought you had such a treasure on your doorstep?’
‘Yep, well ssh, we need to keep her local.’
Bettina appraises my hair. ‘I’ve just realised it looks very similar to yours. We could be twins.’
I touch my hair. ‘Er, yes, well it’s similar, but mine’s lighter, and wavy. I like that honey colour she’s used though, it suits your skin tone.’
‘I’m going lighter once I’ve let the tan fade.’
I feel uncomfortable and at a loss at what to add. I’ve never understood people who copy others. I look around, inadvertently catching Seb’s eye. He gives me a wink.
Mrs Sullivan arrives dressed in a brown woollen suit that would bake anyone else half to death, and have them fainting, but she is as composed as always. Her hair remains in its immovable position as she turns to us like she’s about to give a presidential address. ‘Okay, so can everyone give me a progress update?’
Volunteers fill her in about where they’ve got to over the past week. Bettina has placed notices on the boards in the main building and in the classroom windows, asking for unwanted books and says that quite a few have been donated already. Of course the stocks are easy to set up and need no further discussion.
‘This week’s task is to create some posters,’ states Mrs Sullivan. ‘So if everyone can start by doing a poster for their own stall, and ensure it shows the price of the activity. Whilst you’re doing that, I’ll be having a think about any additional posters we might need, such as arrows for the toilets, refreshment signs et cetera.’
‘Right I’ll catch up with you later,’ I tell Bettina as I get up to make my way over to Seb. The paper for the posters is being placed on the tables. I’m pleased I wore my dodgier clothes as I know from previous experience with Joe that the paint is notoriously difficult to wash out, even though the school professes that it’s washable.
‘Ooohh, Sexy Seb,’ she giggles.
‘Don’t you start,’ I playfully hit her on the shoulder. ‘Just remember this is your entire fault for landing me in the water. You didn’t realise it was hot water, did you?’
A groan indicates Bettina’s response to my humour. ‘Monique is right, lame.’
I laugh and go over to Seb’s table.
He looks me up and down. I squirm under his gaze.
‘Well if it isn’t the lovely Lauren Lawler. Oh the alliteration. I could make a beautiful poem out of your name.’
‘Leave it out.’ I sit down at the table with my side to him so I don’t have to look directly at him. ‘Pass me the pencil to sketch out the poster before we paint it. The quicker we get this done, the quicker I get home to my family.’
‘So we’re not going to the pub then?’
I purse my lips. ‘We are so not going to the pub.’
Seb watches me outline the sign for the fair. I sketch out the words ‘get revenge on a teacher, sponge stocks, one pound for five goes’.
‘Twenty pence a throw? Dear God, I’ll be drenched,’ Seb says. ‘Then you’ll have to go in the stocks. Lauren Lawler all wet. I like the sound of that.’
I glare at him. ‘One more pathetic, lewd comment and I’m out of here. I don’t know if this ladies man charm works with other mothers or women, but to be honest, it’s as attractive to me as you in that get up.’
‘Ouch, that hurts.’ He makes a stabbing through his chest motion with his hands.
I push the poster towards him. ‘I’ve sketched it, you can paint it. It’s done.’ I get up to walk away.
He puts his hand on my arm. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help myself. In my defence it does usually work very well on the fairer sex.’
‘How many times do I have to point out I’m married?’
‘Yes, but are you happily married, Lauren?
I wince at his words.
‘You see if there’s one thing I’ve picked up on since I’ve been charming the ladies as you so nicely call it, it’s which ones are happy, and my guess, is that although you don’t want to like me, you can’t help it. You’re getting attention from me and I’m guessing you’re not getting it at home.’
I clap three times, slowly. ‘Bravo. That deserves a standing ovation. What a crock of shit.’
He rubs his jaw. His usual patter not having worked, his shoulders slump. He fixes me with his chocolate eyed gaze. It hits me again just how attractive he is. It’s a shame his mouth doesn’t match up to his features.
‘Well, gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever been turned down before, married or not,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry Lauren. Can we just get on with the painting and forget about the total ass I’ve made of myself?’
‘That would be nice,’ I state.
We spend the rest of the painting time chatting about Joe, Seb’s job at the school and my eBay work. It’s companionable and pleasant, and I see a different side to Seb. He is so much nicer when the act’s turned off. Mrs Sullivan announces that we have five more minutes left.
Seb pauses from painting and looks up at me. ‘So you have a happy marriage then? I’m pleased for you.’
‘Some of the time he’s a complete arse.’ I state, placing my bag on my shoulder ready to leave. ‘And the last time I got a compliment was about 1995. But he doesn’t play games. No-one likes a player.’ He nods, his forehead wrinkling, as I walk away.
The following night I find myself at home alone. Bettina insisted on having Joe round at hers for tea, to take her turn before I had the kids Friday, and somehow Tyler and Joe have managed to negotiate a sleepover. Niall’s shift had been changed to afternoons, so I text Monique to see if she wants to meet up for tea, but she’s busy, which I translate as shagging Dr Love.
I sit on my settee, a coffee coloured, corner placement like the one in the café. It has lovely sink into it seats. I look around the house. We live in a three bed semi. The walls are painted a neutral beige at Niall’s insistence, so I’ve jazzed it up with abstract red canvasses and assorted cushions in different textures. I had to fight Niall’s obstinacy to get a rug in the lounge, a lovely thick brown one with stripes graduating into shades of red. He thinks they make rooms look too fussy. I like it because it makes the room cosier. I can lie across the rug, rise onto my wrists and read or watch TV. Once upon a time Niall and I would have christened such a rug within days of it being put on the floor, but I’ve had it over seven months now and its only other use has been as a racetrack for Joe’s cars. I realise I’m back getting maudlin and decide if no-one’s available to go out with me, I’ll just go on my own. There’s a pizza place in Meadowhall I go to frequently with Joe, and I reckon I can sit at a dark table at the back. I grab my book to read in lieu of a partner and head off.
After about six minutes walking around the shopping centre, window shopping on my way to the pizza place, I pass a shop that sells intimate items. Usually I pay this shop no attention and walk past. Today I stop. I haven’t had a vibrator for years. I think about how times change. I threw out anything dubious looking when Joe was around four and started going through all the drawers asking what everything was. I suck on my bottom lip. Maybe if I’m not getting much at home from Niall, it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit extra myself. I smile, thinking next time I’m home alone I might not feel the need to rush off shopping.
I go in, and I’m immediately approached by a Shop Assistant. ‘I’m just looking thanks.’
She moves away and leaves me to browse. The vibrators are situated at the back of the store, obscured by a corner so you can’t be seen by outside shoppers. There are rows upon rows of them in assorted shapes and colours. I don’t know where to start. I look at the Assistant and she must be used to reading faces like mine because she heads straight back over.
‘Bit overwhelming isn’t it?’
I nod. ‘I�
��ve had one before but ...’
‘Not a first timer then, that’s useful to know.’ She looks through the racks and hands me a few to look at, describing what they do. I decide on a simple pocket rocket after finding that some of them quite frankly scare me. I feel empowered when I’ve bought one and leave the shop proudly clutching my carrier bag. My stomach growls, so I walk quickly towards the restaurant.
‘Lauren?’
I turn around slowly and look at Seb. He looks at my carrier bag. My face reddens to a deeper shade than ketchup.
‘Normally, I would have to say something lewd and witty, but seeing as it’s you, my mouth is closed.’ He makes a zipping motion with his fingers across his lips.
‘Well of all the people I could have met at this exact moment, of course it would have to be you,’ I huff.
‘Could’ve been Mrs Sullivan...’
The thought of Mrs Sullivan near a sexy store reduces me to laughter and the awkwardness evaporates.
‘Right, well I must get going before I faint with hunger.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘You haven’t eaten yet?’
‘Niall and Joe are out, now don’t think I’m being rude, but I need to get going.’
‘Well that’ll definitely get you going,’ he nods towards the bag. ‘Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist it. I saw an opening and had to take it. Oh my God, I actually didn’t mean to say that one,’ he says with a hand across his mouth, doing his best to hold down a smirk.
‘There’s obviously an underlying sexual repression or something with you,’ I state. ‘Go home, have a wank, and get it over with.’
‘Mrs Lawler. I am shocked that you said that to me, a teacher at your son’s school.’
I close my eyes for a few seconds and wish myself somewhere else. ‘You’re right, that was inappropriate, I’m sorry.’
‘I promise not to tell Mrs Sullivan, but only if you eat with me.’
‘What? Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not going to tell Mrs Sullivan.’
‘I’ll just follow you then, and sit opposite you anyway.’
I sigh. ‘Oh my God, you are so annoying. Whatever, come on then, before I come to my senses and change my mind.’
I no longer need a corner table for one as I don’t want it to look like an illicit encounter, so I ask for a seat in the middle of the restaurant, near several noisy children and infants in high chairs. The smell of garlic and tomato permeates the air. It makes my stomach rumble and my mouth water. I so need to eat. ‘Are you going to behave normally?’
He holds up three fingers. ‘Scout’s promise. I’ll even talk about the summer fair.’
The waitress comes to take our order. I ask for a plain Margarita and a coke. Seb orders the same.
‘So I gather there’s no significant other in your life, with your persistent need to annoy me?’
‘Nope.’ He sits back in his seat, legs wide open. ‘I can’t be doing with serious relationships. It gets to six months and then the pressure starts.’
I raise an eyebrow at him.
‘I’m being serious. One kept inviting me to her friends’ weddings and always managed to catch the bouquet. Another tried to make my mother her best friend. It does my head in; I’m just not that kind of guy. It’s why I started having affairs with married women. I like non-committal sex, but sometimes even they get carried away.’
‘Have you listened to yourself?’
‘I’m just being honest.’ He opens his hands apart in gesture.
The waitress brings our drinks and I have a long sip of mine.
‘Are you enjoying being at Woodley?’ I think a change of subject is a good move.
His face opens up into a large smile. ‘I love it. The kids are mainly awesome.’
‘It’s nice to enjoy a job as well as just earn money from it,’ I say.
‘Absolutely. Total bonus. I love looking at a kid and seeing how there’s all this information about the world they don’t know yet, and I can teach them some of it. Some of those kids might make decisions in the future based on what I’ve taught them. It’s just amazing. Sometimes I can’t get up fast enough in a morning.’
I smirk and he realises what he’s said. ‘Oh, so now you’re starting with the innuendo, steady on Mrs Lawler.’
I pick up my drink quickly and lose my grip on the glass. As it starts to drop his hand hits mine as he reaches over to catch it. We place the glass back down whilst somehow still having our hands touching. I move my hand away. I can’t look at him as my traitorous mind thinks I actually wouldn’t mind touching him again. He hesitates and then leans over the table. I look up at him and I don’t know what to say.
‘You careless sod,’ he chucks me under the chin and the mood is broken, which is just as well as our pizzas arrive.
Seb insists on paying the bill and walking me to my car. The shopping centre closes at eight pm, except for the restaurant area, so there aren’t many cars left around.
He breaks the silence. ‘That poster you drew is really good. You have a talent for art.’
‘Thanks, I love doing anything like that.’
At this point I realise I’m swinging the carrier bag containing my vibrator around.
Seb nods towards it. ‘Is that vintage patterned as well then?’
I roll my eyes at him. ‘Thanks for walking me to the car,’ I say, and open the driver’s side door.
‘My pleasure,’ he says, looks again at the bag and I feel my breathing get heavier.
‘Well, night.’
‘Good night Lauren.’ He walks across the car park his hands in his pockets. I try not to notice that this causes the material of his trousers to pull tight, displaying a mighty fine bottom.
I get home feeling wired. Niall has not yet returned home from work. I go upstairs, remove the packaging from my new toy, clean it and put batteries in. It has noise reduction and whirrs quietly. I feel stupid as I lie back against the pillows and shut my eyes. Thoughts of Seb come into my mind and I drop a hand to my breast and imagine he’s touching me with those soft fingers. I stop; feeling guilty. I’m thinking of a man who’s not my husband. It’s not even a movie star, which I’d give myself a pass for, but my son’s next teacher. I turn the vibrator off, jump out of bed, and throw it at the back of the wardrobe. I’m tired, and feeling foolish. I decide there’s no Facebooking tonight. I’ll go straight to sleep. I didn’t manage to get on Facebook last night either, so I know Monique will be waiting for an update on things. I go to turn my phone off and see I have a message from her asking to know what happened at the fair meeting. There’s another text message from a number I don’t recognise. I open it and read;
Remember your phone can vibrate too, so I might have to keep texting. Keep it in your pants ;)
I switch it off and get into bed for what turns out to be a most restless night’s sleep.
Chapter 5
I spend Friday wasting time on the computer and watching daytime television, which is the one thing I have never succumbed to before at home. At three-fifteen I arrive at school and take Joe and Tyler home. They had an amazing time the previous evening and can’t wait for round two. I’m just dropping the schoolbags into the house when my mobile rings.
‘Lauren?’ The voice is so loud I wince. ‘Oh my God, Lauren, Tyler’s missing. The teacher didn’t see who took him. I’ve called the police. I think Danny’s got him.’ Bettina is sobbing hysterically down the phone and I have to shout to be heard.
‘Bettina, I have them. It’s Friday, remember? You’re going to the cinema with Monique.’ There’s a pause.
‘Oh my God’, she bursts into tears down the phone. ‘I totally forgot. Oh my God. I’ve rung the police. I reported him. I—’
‘Take a breath, ring them back and then ring me and let me know you’re okay.’
‘I… I’ll, yes, I’ll do that now.’
She puts the phone down and I get the children a drink and a snack. When she p
hones again she is much calmer.
‘I’ll come through and see him, if that’s okay. It’s really,’ her breath catches, ‘got to me. I thought he had him.’
‘Well of course you can. I was sure Mrs Baxter had seen me, you know.’
‘As long as he’s safe I don’t care.’
‘But doesn’t Danny see him every other weekend anyway? Why would he pinch him?’ I know I should be apologising. How would I feel if it was Joe? But how can she have forgotten? Surely Tyler and Joe would have been talking about it this morning?
‘He threatened to do it before. He told me he might just take him and go abroad. It’s not like he couldn’t afford it.’
‘I’m sorry Bettina, I didn’t know. Okay, get yourself round here and I’ll get the kettle on.’ I end the call and sit on the bottom step for a few moments.
When she arrives at the house she’s shaking and teary. I keep her in the hallway for a minute, apologise again and get her to compose herself. Tyler will only worry if he sees her upset.
‘I don’t think I can go out now. I’ll stay here with the kids. You go.’
‘Not a chance. Everything here is okay; it was just a mix up, that’s all.
‘I just want to be with Tyler.’
‘He’s fine, and he’s with Joe. Look, I think you need this night out, get a break from things. Plus there is no way on this earth I am seeing that damn film, and Monique will kill you if you don’t go. So cup of tea coming up, and you can have something to eat here if you like. Its casserole, so there’s plenty, and you’ll be able to meet Niall as he’ll be home from work soon.’ I shut up as I realise I’m rambling on and she’s only half listening.
She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand and draws in a deep breath. ‘Thank you. I just… I panicked. I keep thinking Danny’s going to pull some kind of stunt to get Tyler.’
‘Right, come through to the living room.’ I say, ‘but mind where you’re walking, cos there is Lego everywhere and it flipping hurts when you step on it.’ I wait for her acknowledgement. Mothers have a universal hatred of Lego on the floor, but there’s nothing. She rushes straight for Tyler, who endures a hug from his mum, which is obviously so not cool in front of his mate. I see him look over her head and roll his eyes at Joe. I head into the kitchen to warm through the casserole, and decide to give the kids their meal first as they’re complaining they’re starving. We can wait for Niall to arrive home from work.
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