“Oh, you mean before I was accused of assaulting the man that sat on my face?”
“Eh, well, yes. He is now satisfied that the whole situation was an unfortunate accident. The client seemed to calm down after he had a free massage with Milo.” He explained, “We hope to see you both here again soon. Have an excellent night.”
Never again.
As we walked back to the car park, I handed Elle my voucher and told her to give it to someone she hated.
“I have had enough humiliation at the hands of this place, so I’ll pass. Time for home.”
“Don’t be completely put off, let’s give it a while and we’ll try again. Besides at least it got you out of the house and away from the awkwardness with Ben.”
“Things are sorted with Ben, actually. Like, everything is sorted, if you know what I mean.”
I feel like a creepy teenage boy that lies about his hundreds of conquests to impress his mates.
“Oh really? Well, aren’t you a dark horse?”
Her tone was a bit off. She sounded happy but there was a sad edge to her voice.
“You’ll have no need for me then now you’re on the straight and narrow,” she added.
“Yes, that’s you done with. You’ve served your purpose and I have bigger fish to fry,” I said it in an American-mob-boss voice, in an attempt to make her laugh.
She looked like someone had punched her in the chest.
“Elle, I'm kidding! Nothing changes here, in fact, I'll probably need more visits to that shop for lingerie and random sex toys I can hurt Ben with.”
She gave a half smile in return. I decided on a change of subject to cheer her up.
“Why don’t we go to one of those pop-up gin places that serve drinks in candlesticks or something else completely nonsensical?”
“Nah, I’ll pass. I’ve some painting I want to get done before the next class and I don’t want a hangover when I’m bouncing on that trampoline in the morning, you know?”
“Fair enough, I’ll see you at Joseph’s afterwards though, yeah?”
“Yeah, see ya.”
I couldn't help but worry as she walked away. Her natural effervescent self, was being extinguished with her marital woes and all I could do was offer sarcasm and a bit of company once in a while.
There has to be something more I can do, but what?
Chapter 26
“I need your help,” said Elle, as she stood in my doorway.
“You’re soaked through, get in here,” I said, as I rushed her into the house.
She hadn’t been returning my calls since our hellish night at the steam room and I was just relieved she was in front of me, despite her leaving sizeable wet patches everywhere she stood. She had obviously walked from her house in the pouring rain. That was at least two miles away and she still couldn’t sit still long enough for me to make sense out of her. I finally gave up trying to get her to sit on a towel, while she was dripping water on the fabric sofa and thought that listening to her was probably the best thing I could do, right now.
If I could just get the tea-towel underneath her feet then that would be a start.
“He’s cheating on me,” she said. “I know he is. I logged into his Facebook account, the stupid man hadn’t changed his password and – Amy? Why are you on the ground?”
“You’re dripping everywhere, I was just trying to sort out… drippage.”
“Get off the floor, I’ll take off my shoes so we can concentrate on the fact my husband is cheating on me!”
“Yes, you’re right. I no longer care about the dripping.”
Even as I said it out loud I knew it wasn’t convincing.
“If I take off my clothes and sit in my underwear on a paper towel will you please be a normal human being and help me?” she asked.
“Yes, I'll put them in the tumble drier and you can have some pyjamas and I swear I will be a good listener.”
“Fine,” she huffed.
I ran up the stairs to try and dig out semi-matching pyjamas – a more difficult task than it sounded.
Every year, Ben would get me lovely new pyjamas for Christmas and by Boxing Day one part (usually the top) went missing into the ether along with all my favourite socks.
I took a wild guess and assumed that Elle wouldn’t care what she was wearing whilst having an emotional breakdown, so I grabbed the first thing I saw from the drawer and headed back down the stairs.
I found her studying her phone intently, as she sat cross-legged on my sofa. I threw the ancient t-shirt and shorts in her direction and picked up her soaking clothes to get them in the tumble drier. I resisted the urge to mop around her and decided to sit down to find out exactly what Keith was up to.
“He's cheating on me, Amy,” she repeated. “I know we said we were taking a timeout, or whatever crap thing people say to each other, but I didn’t give his dick permission to go on a little vay-cay, you know?”
“Are you sure?”
She pulled out her phone and read aloud: “‘Yeah, we can go to dinner if you like but we’re having dessert back at your place straight after.’ He’s even put one of those creepy horny devil Gifs. What is he, sixteen? He can’t deny it now. I’ve read the lot. I should confront him at this romantic dinner he’s got planned. You know he was meant to have the girls tonight? He cancelled, yesterday, and that’s when I just got fed up with these nonsense excuses so I checked the account and there he was, making plans with her.”
I felt like I should say something horrible about the woman she was showing me on her phone, but I really didn't want to get into a session of slut-shaming a complete stranger.
“Will you come with me?” she asked, with a look of complete desperation that I had never before seen on her. She really was looking like she was at the end of her tether and I couldn’t blame her. By the sounds of things, Keith was being a complete and unmitigated arse and it was time someone held him accountable – I just really wished that person didn’t have to be me, or that it involved causing a scene at a restaurant.
At that moment I heard Ben’s keys in the door, followed by the usual explosion of noise that comes from my family entering any building. Elle quickly wiped her eyes and turned to face the door to greet the three of them.
“Oh! Hello, Elle, when Amy said she got a babysitter for the evening I wasn’t expecting you. Are the girls with Keith?”
Neither of us was expecting the mere mention of her estranged husband's name to cause her to burst into tears. There was a look of sheer panic on Ben’s face. He grabbed a boy under each wing and they all backed out of the room and into the kitchen.
I hugged her as best I could and let her cry it out.
“You’re really bad at hugging,” she said after thirty seconds of awkward holding had passed.
“I know, I’m better at alcohol and sarcasm.”
“Go check and see if I’ve emotionally damaged your children by subjecting them to that pathetic display,” she added, as she used the sleeve of the top to wipe her nose.
I joined the males in the kitchen where I found Ben trying to convince the boys to stay quiet.
“It’s too late,” I said. “You can’t hide out in here, we know you’re in the house.”
“I’m sorry, love. What did I say?” He was ashen-faced after his unintentional upset.
“She thinks Keith is cheating on her and she wants to catch him in the act, tonight.”
“When you said you had organised a fun date night, this isn’t what I was expecting,” he replied.
Fuck.
It was meant to be our first date night in months. I had organised the neighbour’s teenage daughter to sit with the boys (for an extortionate hourly rate) and we had dinner reservations. I had even shaved – in Winter. This was a big effort for me.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave her like this. She’s pretty fragile.”
At that second, I heard a smash coming from the living room.
Ben
and I ran in to see what carnage our visitor had caused and found her standing on the sofa, phone in hand, and face red with fury.
“He’s only taking her to our restaurant!” she roared.
“The café?” I asked, confused by the very liberal use of the word ‘restaurant’.
“No! Keith and I go to the same place for every special occasion and the unoriginal turd is taking her to it.”
I was picking up the broken shards of the vase she had knocked over when she jumped.
“What are you doing down there? Do you obsessively clean around all your visitors?” she asked.
“Just the erratic ones,” I replied, with flippancy.
“I think we should tail him,” said Ben.
Elle and I both looked at him, shocked. Firstly, because both of us had forgotten he was even there and secondly, Ben was meant to be the voice of reason. A wide grin spread across Elle’s face and she started doing a little bounce on the sofa as if she was on one of her trampolines.
“I knew you were a legend, Benny,” she said with unmistakable glee.
“Can I talk to you for a second, Ben?” The tension in my voice was poorly disguised as I dragged him back to the kitchen by the arm in order to talk some sort sense into him.
“Are you mad?” I hissed.
“What? I’m being supportive. We have the babysitter, we want to spend some time together and you don’t want to leave your upset friend. I thought this would be the perfect solution.”
“If we go through with this we will have lots of time together in the back of a police car when we are arrested as accessories to murder.”
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” interrupted Elle. “Mostly because I was standing outside the door trying to hear, but if you guys come with me tonight I swear to Lucifer I won’t get us arrested. I just want him to know that I know, you know?”
I sunk my shoulders in defeat and traipsed upstairs to find my best sleuthing outfit.
I could hear the groan of my sofa springs as Elle encouraged the boys to try some boogie bounce moves while Ben and I tried to find something black to wear on our stakeout.
“How is it that I have so many black clothes but none of them are matching blacks?” he asked.
“Because I’m a terrible wife who doesn’t separate the fabrics or colours, so it’s anyone’s guess what state our clothes come out of the machine.”
“Fair enough, I’ll not admonish you this time Cole, but sort it out.”
I glared at him from across the bed and threw a blackish top in his direction.
“Cheer up, Amy this is going to be fun. Date night with added danger,” he smiled.
“I’ll remind you of this mirth when you’re getting carted away by police or punched in the face by Keith – and his date.”
I could see him mentally run through the possibility of this actually happening and he must have decided that the chance of either of those scenarios occurring were slim, so he continued to get dressed.
The doorbell heralded the arrival of the babysitter and after a brief conversation about bedtimes she asked for the Wi-Fi code. This interaction didn’t fill me full of confidence about her dedication to her charges but she was a regular babysitter throughout the area and hadn’t killed any of the other kids so far. I accepted that this was a pretty low standard to set for letting people look after my children.
“Goodbye boys, possibly forever, because I may be going to get arrested,” I said, as I kissed each of them. Judging by their complete lack of worry at the thought of never seeing me again, I knew it was fine to leave. I decided their unemotional states were because I was successfully raising two self-sufficient, independent children and not because they didn’t like me.
“I’ll drive,” shouted Elle, as she ran out towards her car.
“Chauffeured on our date, this is getting off to a good start,” Ben joked.
“Yes, I can’t wait to sit in a freezing cold car to stake out a restaurant for a few hours.”
I knew I sounded sulky and I knew it would probably be better in the long run that we supervised this run-in with Keith and his new lady friend. Who knows what would happen if we’d let Elle go by herself, but I wasn’t relishing the prospect of what the night had in store.
“Cold? Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, I’ve got it covered,” he said with a mischievous smirk.
I was beginning to worry that Ben was getting far too into this private investigator fantasy and I just hoped that he wasn’t concealing night-vision goggles under his coat.
As we drove towards the restaurant which I’d never heard of, on the other side of town, I tried to regulate my breathing. It had begun to get laboured with anxiety. When we pulled up, I could see that this whole situation had started to get to Elle.
The neon sign above the doorway said ‘Mike’s Meat Boutique’ and that alone made my stomach feel a bit queasy.
“Are you sure this is the place?” I asked, tentatively.
“It looks like a hole but they do the best steak I’ve ever eaten and they’ve always been our secret little place away from the hipsters.”
“A yes would have covered it,” I said, looking out the passenger side window.
I pretended not to see the glare from Elle and spotted a small newsagent open across the street.
“I’m going for supplies, unless we’re going to all hide in a booth and stare at them during dinner?” I asked.
“What is your problem here, Amy?” said Elle. “Ben is being much more supportive over this plan and I have enough to deal with without you acting like a teenager who didn’t get to go out with their friends and had to hang out with Mum and Dad.”
I wasn’t entirely surprised she was directing her frustration towards me and I knew my attitude wasn’t helpful. I silently got out of the car after my telling off, and decided to come back with chocolate and a better approach.
In the grand scheme of things, I was missing one date – yes, we really needed it – but she was about to watch her husband go out to dinner with another woman and I was being a jerk. I had been vowing to be a better friend and this was my chance.
By the time I got back to the car, Ben and Elle were talking animatedly about a television show they both loved. I handed out the goodies from the bag, as well as offering a sincere ‘sorry’ for my grumpy behaviour.
My good intentions of a better mood didn’t last long, due to the rapidly dropping temperature outside.
“It’s freezing,” I said, as I blew on my fingers to get some feeling back into them.
“I told you, I’ve got you covered,” said Ben, from the backseat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hip flask.
“I knew this would come in handy one day. People are always getting me these bloody drink sets at Christmas and we have a cupboard at home full of random drinking vessels that come with them. Now, I finally get to use one.”
His enthusiasm for using this flask was bordering on sad but I took it from him all the same. I took a slug without even asking what it was, but the familiar burn of whiskey in my throat was not hard to mistake.
“Bleugh! Ben!” I said, as I tried to stop myself heaving it all back up again. “I haven't drank whiskey in years. What were you thinking?”
“What was I thinking? What did you think would be in a hip flask? Tea?”
“I was kinda hoping for that, yes.”
“When do you ever see a private investigator sipping tea while on a stakeout? They're always hardened alcoholics so we have to look the part.”
“For who exactly? Keith? I don’t think he’ll care what we’re drinking. He’ll probably be more concerned about the three people stinking of booze and standing over his table giving him grief for being such a shitty husband.”
Elle held out her hand for the flask but I refused.
“You're driving,” I said.
“Give me the flask, Princess, I need some Dutch courage and if I get pissed I’ll pay for the taxi back.
”
I reluctantly handed her the whiskey, in keeping with my new attitude of being a more supportive co-conspirator.
The three of us sat in the freezing car, passing around the horrible whiskey, talking about all our worst hangover stories in order to find out who was the most pathetic. It came as no surprise to me that I won the title.
It was for the time I showed up to my after-school job carrying a plastic bag full of my own vomit. It was the worst hangover of my life but I was worried I’d get fired if I called in sick. The manager took one look at me, along with my pathetic – and frankly disgusting – bag of puke and sent me home.
“We’re out of whiskey,” said Ben, “Do you want me to go find an off license?”
“No need, they’re here,” said Elle.
Chapter 27
My stomach instinctively contracted into a ball of panic. I desperately looked around to see if this had all been some horrible misunderstanding and Keith was alone – he wasn’t.
His date didn’t look a million miles away from Elle (albeit younger looking), something I thought would be better kept to myself in case that really sent her over the edge.
“She looks like a younger version of you, Elle,” said Ben.
Elle and I stopped our snooping long enough to glare at him.
I married a moron.
“She looks nothing like you, Ben isn’t wearing his glasses. He’s not even sure which one is her and which one is Keith,” I explained.
“I don’t wear glasses,” he piped up, sounding confused and completely unaware of the damage he had done. If he was close enough, I would have kicked him.
They were about to walk right past the car so the three most conspicuous private eyes in the world slumped down in our seats.
“Won’t he recognise the car?” I asked, poorly hiding the panic in my voice.
“Are you kidding?” asked Elle. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off that woman’s chest since they got out of the car. He used to look at me that way.”
“Like a piece of meat?” asked Ben.
“If you aren’t going to say anything helpful, please stay quiet!” I said in my best shouty whisper.
Amy Cole has lost her mind: The perfect laugh out loud, feel-good comedy (The Amy Cole series Book 1) Page 21