Having a Ball

by Rhoda Baxter

  Marsh frowned, confused. "I guess there's worse people to look like. Now, do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

  "It's a long story. Best sit down. "

  "In which case..." Marsh reached into one of his bags. "It's a good job I picked up this." He pulled out a tub of ice cream. "I wasn't sure how big the crisis was, so I got the biggest tub of Ben and Jerry's I could find."

  She kissed his cheek. "You're the best brother in the world." She plucked the tub out of his hand. "I'll get a spoon."

  She got a bowl and a spoon for him too, but he shook his head. "Jane keeps buying cold things. She's hot all the time. Our freezer is full of ice lollies. I don't think I could stomach more ice cream right now."

  "You don't have to eat Jane's ice cream."

  He gave her a look that told her she had no idea how his marriage worked.

  "Right." She sank into the sofa next to him and dug the spoon straight into the tub.

  "Before you start," said Marsh. "Does this involve Tom Blackwood?"

  Stevie grimaced.

  Marsh sighed. "Go on."

  It all came out in a jumbled, emotional rush. She gave him a fairly garbled account of the ball, how she had fallen for Tom without ever intending to, how she'd left. How she felt. When she finished, there was silence. She sniffed, wiped her eyes and ate another spoonful of ice cream.

  "Well," he said, "are you sure about...being in love?"

  Stevie shrugged. Having told someone all about it, she was starting to feel a little better about the whole fiasco. "I didn't think I was. But when Evelyn said he was going, it was like losing people all over again. It's like there was this place inside that I never knew existed and now it's crumbling. It hurts. Like, physically."

  Marsh nodded. "Sounds like love, all right." For a moment he stared into space. "I felt like that when I thought I'd lost Jane."

  Stevie remembered that time all too well. "The worst of it," she said, as she levered out another hefty dose of ice cream, "is that everyone told me this would happen. Everyone. And I thought I was grown up enough to handle it."

  He gave her a long sideways look. "What have you done to handle it?"

  "Well, I've called you. Like I always do."

  He laughed gently and laid a hand on her arm. "No, you waited until the morning to call me. You normally just phone at whatever time at night. And from what you've just said, you've been trying to get on with your life. You've accepted it hurts. But you're doing your best to carry on. Sounds to me like you're being pretty grown up about it."

  She stared, ice cream spoon in her mouth. Marsh, her big brother who always treated her like a baby, thought she was handling this well. Perhaps she was. Marsh didn't give praise lightly. She swallowed too much ice cream too quickly and winced at the resulting stab of pain. "Really?"

  "Yes. Really. It wasn't so long ago you'd have just sat in here with the curtains drawn and cried for three days."

  She thought about it. That was true. She had done that in the past.

  "So, I think you're doing pretty well. I'm just sorry that it had to happen at all." He scowled. "If I ever see Tom, I really will hit him."

  Stevie smiled. "Marsh, you'd never hit anyone. Besides, it's not Tom's fault. He told me he didn't do commitment and I convinced myself that was okay. He didn't lie to me."

  "Still. He should have known better. You're young..."

  "I thought you just said I was quite mature."

  "You're still young."

  Stevie threw up her free hand. "I can't win."

  Marsh smiled at her. "I'm afraid you'll always be thirteen to me."

  "Well, I just hope Jane's having a boy. Because a girl wouldn't stand a chance with you for a dad."

  The smile dropped from his face and she immediately regretted what she'd said. "Sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

  "No, no. It's just..." He shrugged, and spread his hands out. "You know. It's a big thing."

  "Is everything going okay? Is Jane okay?"

  "Oh yeah. After the initial terrible time, she seems to be blooming now and there haven't been any problems."

  "So, what's bothering you?"

  He didn't reply, just stared at the floor, his brow furrowed.

  "Are you worried about becoming a dad?" she said softly.

  "Well, it is a scary thought." He gave her a half smile. "It's a huge responsibility."

  Stevie didn't know what to say. She was used to him stressing and obsessing about exams and work. Those were easy to deal with. Marsh was clever and good at what he did. Although he sometimes doubted himself, he knew deep inside that he would pass whatever test he faced. But this was different. No one could predict how good a parent he would be.

  Stevie looked at the tub of ice cream in her hand. When in doubt, ice cream was always a good standby.

  She offered the tub to Marsh. He smiled and picked up the empty bowl and spoon from the table in front of him.

  "Thanks." He helped himself to a large dollop.

  Stevie nodded in acknowledgement. She watched fondly as her brother ate the melting ice cream carefully so as not to get any on his shirt. Since she was thirteen, he had been her father, mother and best friend as well as her big brother. If anyone were to take credit for how she had turned out, it would largely be him. At the time she'd thought he was bossy and overbearing, but the last few weeks had taught her just how difficult teenage girls could be. Poor Marsh had had no choice but to throw himself into the role and hope for the best.

  "For what it's worth," she said. "I think you'll be a great dad."

  He gave her a sceptical glance. "Yeah?"

  "You brought me up, pretty much."

  He shook his head. "You brought yourself up. I just made sure you had food and clothes and a house to live."

  "Uh huh. Not to mention lecturing me on the dangers of drugs. Making sure I did my homework. Picking me up when I missed the last train home. Scaring away boyfriends you didn't like. Grounding me for nicking money out of your wallet..."

  "I never scared away any of your boyfriends."

  "Derek Williamson?"

  "Okay. One. He really wasn't right for you though."

  Stevie rolled her eyes.

  "Anyway," she said, firmly returning to the subject. "Since Mum and Dad died, you've been the closest thing I've had to a parent. So if I turned out even remotely normal, it's all thanks to you."

  "And Aunty Caroline. And all those social services people."

  Stevie waved the suggestion away. "They just popped in now and again."

  They sat together and ate ice cream in silence for a few minutes.

  Finally Marsh said, "Do you really think that?"

  "Don't milk it. I'm not saying it again."

  * * * *

  While Marsh was still there, Stevie got another phone call from someone who'd taken her card at the ball. This time it was about a graduation party. She made notes and asked a few questions to get a general idea, then agreed to call back with a quote. She hung up and found Marsh watching her, a curious expression on his face.

  "What?" she said over her shoulder, while making a few last notes.

  "I've never seen you in action before. It's an eye opener to see the all-new, professional side of you."

  "It's not that new," said Stevie, even though it was.

  "I'm impressed."

  Stevie stared. Had Marsh actually said he was impressed? "Wow. That's high praise coming from you."

  He grinned. "Must be the ice cream, gone to my head." He looked at his watch. "Listen, I'd better go. I want to get home before Jane goes to bed." He gathered his things. "Are you going to be okay?"

  Stevie nodded. She was feeling much better for having poured out all her feelings. Being independent was all well and good, but it was comforting to have her big brother around to talk to sometimes. "I'm all grown up now, see?"

  Marsh laughed. "If you say so." He pulled on his coat.

  "Thanks for the ice cream. And the chat."
/>
  Marsh inclined his head in acknowledgement. He picked up his briefcase and was about to say something when there was a knock on the door. He gave Stevie a puzzled glance.

  It was nearly 10:00 p.m. Who could it be at this hour? Feeling glad that Marsh was here, in case it was some weirdo, she opened the door.

  Tom was standing outside. His suit collar was open at the neck and his curls were tumbling onto his forehead. He looked a little unsteady, like he'd just come from the pub. "Hi." His smile bypassed her brain and registered straight in her stomach. "Can I come in?"

  Stevie's thoughts skittered around. Tom. He was here. He was gorgeous. "Um..." Did she really want to talk to him? What was there to say?

  Marsh came and stood behind her. Tom's eyes flicked over her shoulder to look at her brother and his eyes widened slightly. Stevie remembered that the last time they'd met, Marsh had been in a high temper.

  "Marsh," said Tom, recovering his composure.

  "Tom." There was ice in Marsh's voice.

  "I've come to see Stevie." He looked back to Stevie. "Can I come in?"

  Stevie glanced at Marsh, who said nothing. His expression told her that he would gladly kick Tom's arse down the stairs, but he was waiting to see what she wanted. She understood that he was giving her room to be the adult she claimed to be.

  She sighed and opened the door. "Come in. Marsh was just leaving."

  Marsh gave her a nod. "I'll call you tomorrow." He left, not bothering to say goodbye to Tom.

  Tom watched him go. "He's not changed much."

  "Did you just come here to be rude about my brother?"

  "No. No." Tom entered, a little sheepishly. "I came to see you."

  She didn't invite him to sit down. The mere sight of him, standing close enough to touch, was clawing at her heart. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him. She was pretty sure he'd kiss her back. But that would achieve nothing. It would merely hurt more when he told her he was leaving. She folded her arms across her chest. "Evelyn told me you got the job in Doha. Congratulations."

  "Thanks. Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about."

  Was he going to say he'd turned down the job so that he could be with her? Hope fluttered in her chest. Did he care about her as much as she cared about him?

  He ran a hand through his hair. "The thing is, Stevie," he said. "I really like you. I've been with women before and none of them have had the impact you've had on me. None of them." He took a step towards her. "I think we had something...have something...special. And it would such a shame for it to end before it's even started."

  Her heart almost stopped beating in anticipation of what he was going to say. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

  "So, I want you to come to Doha with me."

  The crash of her dreams was almost audible. She gasped. "What?"

  "Come with me. I can say you're my partner, we could get a big double flat together. It's a senior position, I'll make more than enough money for both of us. You could--"

  Stevie was no longer listening. Anger exploded through her. How dare he? Did he think he could just click his fingers and she would drop everything and run off with him? "I could what, Tom? Keep house for you? Be there at the ready whenever you fancy a shag?"

  Tom took a step back, as though singed by her anger. "No, I didn't mean that at all. I meant, come with me. Be my girlfriend. You can find a job over there, if that's what you want."

  Stevie thought of the two potential events she had lined up. Her career as an event organiser was only just beginning. She had her dream job within her sights, and he was asking her to just chuck it. Clearly, he felt that her career was less important than his own. What happened when things went wrong? She'd be stuck in the Middle East, reliant on him, and her fledgling career would be dead. "I already have a job here. I've had loads of offers since the ball. Things are going well, thank you."

  "Of course they are. You're good."

  "And you want me to leave everything and come and be your plaything?"

  "That is not what I'm saying!" His voice rose.

  She glared. "What are you saying then?"

  "I'm saying that I want to be with you! Although God knows why I bothered." He put his hands on his hips and glared back.

  Stevie's arms tightened against her chest. Suddenly, a stab of something else was thrown into the mix of emotions. He'd just said he wanted to be with her. She was more than a two-night stand. She knew Tom well enough to know that it was not an admission he would make lightly. But he wanted her on his terms. Just like when she'd first slept with him, it was on his terms.

  But she'd learned her lesson. It took a moment for her to find her voice. "I'm sorry, Tom," she said, knowing this to be true. "But I can't do what you're asking."

  "Why not? If I want you and you want me..."

  Stevie sighed. "When we met, you told me you were married to your job. And you are. If I leave everything I have behind and come with you, what happens when your job takes over? Because it will. It'll start with working one weekend, just to get something finished, and then before you know it, you'll be busy and I'll hardly see you. I won't be able to find work there as easily as you think. What am I supposed to do then?"

  Tom looked deflated. "But we'll be together."

  "I know. But it's not as simple as that." She pressed her jaws together in an effort to stop herself from crying. She knew he meant well, but he really hadn't thought it through. This job was important to him and she knew that the old workaholic Tom was there, just below the surface, and would reappear within weeks. "I want to be with you too, but you're asking too much. I can't just leave everything to become your live-in woman."

  Tom sighed, all the fight gone out of him. "Where does that leave us, then?"

  "Pretty much where we were when I left Oxford, I guess."

  His expression was so sad that it was all she could do not to reach for him. "You're a very special person Stevie," he said finally.

  Her vision swam with tears, but she tried to smile. "So are you."

  He stepped towards her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

  She closed her eyes.

  "Bye, Stevie."

  "Bye, Tom." She opened her eyes and a tear rolled down her face. She would have wiped it away, but she was afraid that if she moved her arms, her chest would shatter.

  At the door he paused. "If you change your mind..."

  She shook her head. "I won't."

  He pulled the door gently shut behind him.

  Stevie sank to the floor and unlocked her arms. A huge sob erupted from somewhere deep inside. She put her face in her hands and gave herself up to the pain.

  Chapter 23

  From: Tom Blackwood

  To: Olivia Gornall

  Well, that wasn't such a great idea. I feel like a total sh*t now.

  ##

  From: Olivia Gornall

  To: Tom Blackwood

  What happened?

  Did you go and see her?

  ##

  From: Tom Blackwood

  To: Olivia Gornall

  I asked her to come with me. She said no.

  The worst of it is, she's right. If she comes with me, I will have to work silly hours to make it in this job and I won't be able to spend as much time with her as I'd like to and she won't have anything to do. We might be phenomenally lucky and find her a job, but the chances aren't huge.

  I feel worse now than I did before. Somehow, seeing her again just reinforced how much I miss her. I know it's only been a couple of days since she was in Oxford, but time seems to go slower without her around. It's like TV--once you've seen things in HD, normal TV suddenly seems really crap. That's what it's like. She made me see life in sharp focus. Now everything looks dull.

  Oh, and I told her I wanted a longer term relationship. I didn't mean to, it just
came out. Now that it's out there, I know it's true. Which makes everything suck all the more.

  I'm off to get another drink.

  Tom

  ##

  From: Olivia Gornall

  To: Tom Blackwood

  Oh Tom. I don't know what to say. If you ever want to talk about it some more, you know where to come.

  ##

  From: Tom Blackwood

  To: Olivia Gornall

  Thanks Og.

  * * * *

  From: Stevie Winfield

  To: Marshall Winfield

  Just to let you know I'm okay. Tom came to ask me to come to Doha with him. I said no.

  ##

  From: Marshall Winfield

  To: Stevie Winfield

  Glad you're okay. You did the right thing. I'm proud of you.

  M

  ##

  From: Stevie Winfield

  To: Marshall Winfield

  If it was the right thing to do, why does it hurt so much?

  Chapter 24

  From: Olivia Gornall

  To: Tom Blackwood

  Hey. Long silence from you. I take it to mean that you're busy. So, what's it like over there? I've never been to that part of the world.

  OG

  ##

  From: Tom Blackwood

  To: Olivia Gornall

  Sorry, meant to drop you a line, but haven't had a moment to myself. How are things out there? Are they missing me?

  Over here--hot. And different. Apart from work, I've met a few people in the ex-pat banking sector and it's all very high octane. Have viewed the proposed office site. Hired someone to manage the fit out. Had many, many business dinners, so much so I'm starting to crave a simple bowl of pasta with pesto.