Si locked himself in the bathroom. Clutching his stomach, he opened the window. He didn’t want to gas the house out. Or himself for that matter. Si lowered himself onto the toilet. Dear Lord. If June’s chilli chicken casserole could be bottled, there’d be a superb new laxative on the market. Si flushed the chain and washed his hands. Reaching into the bathroom cupboard, he popped a couple of Nurofen. Would it be safe to venture into the bedroom? There was only one way to find out.
Si pushed the bedroom door open. Steph was ending her call. Her face bore an expression he hadn’t seen before. Defiance. And then her features registered disgust.
‘I told you to sleep on the sofa,’ she spat.
Si could feel himself beginning to react. This just wasn’t fair. Today he’d had both eyes blacked and his foot stabbed with a fork. Now Steph was banishing him downstairs. And what for? Allegedly having a fling with some woman he’d never heard of, never mind met. His head ached. His guts ached. He’d had enough.
‘I’m tired and I want to go to sleep,’ he said.
‘Not with me you’re not.’
Si stripped down to his boxers. ‘No. Not with you.’
‘I mean it Si. You’re not sleeping with me.’
‘I mean it too,’ he said evenly. ‘In fact, I can’t remember the last time I slept with you Steph.’
‘What’s that remark supposed to mean?’
‘Exactly that. I can’t remember the last time we made love. Or the last time I kissed you without encountering a mouthful of night cream. Or a cold shoulder. So why should tonight be any different?’ Si flung back the duvet on his side of the bed. ‘You say you don’t want to sleep with me tonight. In truth you haven’t wanted to sleep with me any night.’ Si flopped into bed and pulled the duvet over him. Snaking out a hand, he switched off the bedside light.
‘I see.’ Steph’s voice floated across the darkness. ‘So because I’m not swinging my bra around like a football rattle and singing here we go all round the bedroom, you’ve written me off as a sexless has-been.’
‘I never said that. But sometimes a kiss and a cuddle would be nice. A bit of warmth.’
‘Huh! I was ready for a bit of warmth when you cancelled our date to Chapter One. Remember? I’d been to the hairdresser. Made an effort with make-up. I had on my best underwear. I was ready to ravish you Si. Do you hear me? Ravish you! And what did you do? You stood me up. Right there on the doorstep. You didn’t even say I looked nice. Instead you drove off into the sunset with that trollop in your van.’
‘I drove off to the sodding hospital. We’ve been over this already Steph. You’re not interested in ravishing me. The only thing you want to ravish is that silly bloody laptop. You brush me away all the time. Like some sort of dirty old fly.’
‘Oh, so that’s your excuse. How dare you Simon Garvey. How dare you try and justify screwing around.’
‘I haven’t been screwing anybody!’ Si howled.
‘No? I don’t recall you telling Amanda’s husband that.’
‘I didn’t get a chance. In case you hadn’t noticed Steph, the bloke didn’t stop to ask sensible questions. Didn’t check his facts. Just went in all guns blazing and decked me. I could hardly breathe, never mind speak.’
‘Well you can save your words and your breath,’ Steph snapped. ‘I’m not interested in your excuses. Are you getting out of this bed or not?’
‘Not. If it’s such a big deal you go and sleep on the sofa.’
‘I have work tomorrow. I’m not messing my back up.’
‘Neither am I,’ said Si. ‘The rest of me is messed up enough.’
‘Oh dear oh dear. Whatever will Dawn say when she sees her boyfriend sporting two black eyes.’
‘I really couldn’t care less what Dawn says.’
‘Well as far as I’m concerned Si, you can do what you like with Dawn. And Amanda. And anybody else. You’re a free agent from now on.’
‘I see. Does this mean you’re a free agent too?’ There was a pause. Si waited. No response. This was interesting. Si’s hand found the lamp switch. The room was once again flooded with light. He turned over and propped himself up on one elbow. Steph was lying with her back to him. ‘Don’t ignore me Steph. Answer the question.’ Si’s heart began to pick up speed. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling. Was this some sort of wind up? Cross words were one thing. Moving on to other people was a different ball game altogether. And not one he was prepared to entertain.
Steph exhaled shakily. ‘Yes.’
‘Yes? What do you mean yes?’
Steph sat up. She turned to face him. ‘I believe you’ve cheated on me Si. Not just with Amanda, but with Dawn too.’
‘For God’s sake woman will you listen–’
‘No Si. You listen! I was prepared to believe you over Dawn. Until Amanda’s husband turned up. And now I don’t believe you at all. But unlike you, I’m going to be honest. We’re free agents. You can date who you like. You can sleep with who you like. We’re finished. And tomorrow I’m going out. On a date.’
Si stared at his wife stupidly. ‘A date?’
‘Yes. I’m going out to dinner tomorrow night with another man.’
‘This is ridiculous.’
‘No. It’s not ridiculous. This marriage is over. And tomorrow night I’m out.’
‘Well it hasn’t taken you long to get over this has it?’ Si rounded on Steph furiously. ‘And who is this knight in shining armour come to whisk you away from a treacherous cheating husband?’
Steph jutted her jaw out. Si recognised the look. He’d seen it earlier. Defiance. And before Steph even said the name, his heart knew the answer.
‘Barry Hastings,’ she said.
Chapter Forty
Tom pulled the duvet over his head. He could hear his parents squabbling in their bedroom. He didn’t need a string of A Levels to work out why. Or the cause. Damn and blast. Lashing out he punched his pillow viciously. What sort of dishonest coward was he to hide behind his father’s name? Tom had come clean to his mother. But she’d refused to believe him! He had wanted to confess everything to his father too. But every time the words had formed on his lips, a hot wave of shame had rolled over him. Oh hi Dad. By the way. About that punch. The one that Mr Muscles gave you. Sorry about that. It was meant for me. Catch you later. What sort of son was he? He’d had a bad vibe about Amanda’s husband. Why hadn’t he listened to that inner voice of warning? Instead he’d convinced himself it was nothing to worry about. Using his Dad’s name had been a bit of psychological insurance. Like wearing a suit of invisible armour. In the cold light of day he hadn’t thought for one moment Amanda’s husband really would come after Tom. Or Si in this case. And how had Amanda’s husband found out? Tom had been inside Mark’s house but had been scrupulous about not leaving any clues behind.
His parents’ voices had stopped. Perhaps they were kissing and making up. Tom certainly hoped so. His mobile phone gave a series of beeps and lit up the dark. Leaning out of bed he picked the phone off the floor. A text message. The display said Rude Girl. His name for Amanda. I can’t call in case I’m overheard. I don’t know how Mark found out. He told me you won’t be bothering me again. Are you okay?
Oh yes. He was okay. It was just his poor father who wasn’t.
Tom’s fingers moved over the keys. Black eye. It’s over. Take care of yourself. Tom knew his message was brutally cold. But he was more concerned about his parents and the emotional mess he’d landed them both in. Amanda was a big girl. She had known the two of them were destined to end sooner rather than later. Tom had barely sent his text when one came winging back.
No! It’s not over. We just need to be more careful. Let things blow over for a couple of days. I can’t give you up Si.
Bugger. This was all he needed. Someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. And didn’t she even care about the risk of Tom getting beaten up again. Correction, his dad getting beaten up again?
Amanda, it was just meant to be a bit of f
un. Let’s leave it there.
Tom debated whether to turn his phone off. But before he could do so, it beeped again.
You told me you loved me! And I love you! I am prepared to divorce Mark!
What! Things were getting way out of hand now.
I don’t love you. Sorry.
How had he misread her so badly? Rich married women weren’t meant to divorce their husbands for toy boy student lovers!
I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to do the decent thing. I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow. Everything is going to be okay. We will be together. Night night. Kiss Kiss.
Shit, shit and shit. Tom hit the call button. Stuff Mark hearing Amanda’s phone ringing. A part of him even hoped that Mark might answer. Then Tom could tell Mark that his wife was harassing him. But what if Mark then gave Amanda a black eye? Oh God. Tom felt completely out of his depth. The phone went straight to voicemail. Amanda had switched it off. Terrific. Tom hung up.
Flopping back on his pillow, Tom stared up at the shadowy ceiling. He’d managed to get himself into a right mess. And hurt others along the way. It was time to grow up and sort the mess out. If only he’d been honest with himself in the first place. Gone with his instincts. His real instincts. Explored what troubled his thoughts. And then Tom’s mind closed like a shutter. No. He wasn’t going to think about the other thing. That would cause even more upset. He needed to think about the current situation. Amanda. Tom came to a decision. Firstly, if Amanda tried to contact him, he’d ignore her. Secondly, he had to find her old man. Mark. Talk to him. Confess. If he ended up being smacked about then so be it. It was only what he deserved. He’d apologise, for what it was worth. If Amanda and Mark divorced, that was their business. But Tom wanted no part of it. Nor did he want his father coming to any further harm. Mark would realise he’d belted the wrong person. Perhaps Tom could persuade Mark to come round and apologise to his parents. Say it was mistaken identity or something? Although possibly his parents wouldn’t be very forgiving. Especially his mother. Tom had visions of his mother bashing Mark over the head with her laptop. No, no. Keep the parents out of it. Tom would make it up to his father in other ways. Like washing his dad’s van for the rest of his life. Tom’s thoughts raced ahead. He reined them back. First things first. Find Mark.
Tom wasn’t going to risk going to the house. He wasn’t having Mark yanking him through the front door and beating him black and blue. Oh no. Tom had a better idea. He’d go to the High Street. To the commercial property that Amanda had done a recce on. Refurbishment had begun. Mark was bound to be there. And then he, Tom, would sort this mess out.
Chapter Forty One
As June had stood in her bedroom doorway, staring at Harry in all his naked glory, she’d been aware of raised voices next door.
‘BOLLOCKS!’ Steph had clearly screeched. How very apposite. June snapped to.
‘Harry! What do you think you’re playing at?’
‘Juney darling.’ Harry was smiling at her. He held out both hands. ‘Come to me.’
‘Now look here–’
‘Yes do look here,’ Harry cooed. ‘Do you like what you see Juney?’
No, June didn’t like what she could see! But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t drag her eyes away. They remained pinned on Harry’s body. His shoulders were still broad, the chest hairless. His legs were surprisingly weedy. The same couldn’t be said about Harry’s private parts. June boggled. Good heavens. The thought of that...that...well it made her eyes water that’s what!
‘Come to me,’ Harry repeated. ‘Don’t be afraid. I’m all man. And I’m ready for you.’
‘And I’m all woman,’ June roared, ‘and I’m bloody furious. How dare you Harry! Your behaviour is quite inappropriate.’
‘Not at all Juney. Don’t be silly. We are both passionate people. You even dress passionately!’ Harry indicated June’s low cut dress. How she regretted wearing it. ‘We have passion for each other. It shows in our dancing. Let us now play that passion out in the bedroom. We’re mad for each other!’
‘Oh I’m mad all right Harry. Mad as a hornet. Leave please. Now!’
Harry leapt out of bed. Bits and pieces jiggled alarmingly. June averted her eyes.
‘Juney, please darling.’ Harry went to put his arms around her. June shrank back. Ralph began to bark. For a little dog he could certainly deliver in the vocal department. ‘I implore you to reconsider,’ Harry yelled above Ralph’s din. ‘It’s late. We need sleep. We won’t do anything. We’ll just lie together. Skin against skin.’
‘Hush Ralph!’ June had visions of lying next to Harry. The centre of the duvet steepling all night long. ‘I don’t think so Harry. But you’re right. It is late and I am very tired. And I definitely need some sleep. And now I’m going to ask you, politely, to go home. If you can’t drive I’ll call you a cab.’
Harry’s expression changed from lust to incredulity. ‘Okay, okay,’ he put his hands up in surrender. ‘I’ll go. No need to call a taxi. I’m perfectly capable of driving.’
‘I’ll wait downstairs Harry. While you get dressed.’
June walked along the landing and back downstairs. Her legs felt decidedly wobbly. She went back into the kitchen. She needed to distract herself. Keep busy. On automatic pilot now, June reached for the plates on the drainer. She put them away and then polished the glasses. There was a step behind her. She turned.
Harry stood in the doorway. He looked like a little boy who’d had his football taken away. ‘I’ll be off then.’
June swallowed. ‘Yes.’
‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘Actually–’
‘Yes?’
June paused. Harry looked wretched. ‘I think in the circumstances–’
‘Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say Juney,’ Harry begged.
‘Don’t make this any harder for me Harry.’
‘Listen to me. Please Juney. I’m aware that I’ve made a complete mess of things. Royally fudged up.’ Harry spread his hands. An expression of honesty. Coming clean. ‘I am so sorry. I’ve taken advantage of your hospitality. Disregarded your wishes. Put you in an invidious situation.’
‘Yes,’ June agreed.
‘If I told you it would never, ever happen again, would you believe me?’
‘Look Harry, I–’
‘Hear me out for one moment. I like you Juney. Enormously. In fact,’ Harry’s voice cracked, ‘I think I love you.’
June’s eyes widened. Love? Harry loved her? ‘We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks.’
‘If you know something is right, then time is irrelevant.’
June’s brain whirred. She’d been mad about Harry in the beginning. Crazy enough to think of him as fiancé material. But now? Well, now she didn’t. ‘I started off thinking the same way Harry, but–’
‘And it’s my fault,’ Harry interrupted. ‘My fault for pressuring you. Being persistent. Refusing to take no for an answer. You are a beautiful woman Juney. You stirred not just my heart but my fervour.’
June tried not to think about Harry’s fervour. It had certainly loomed larger than life in her bed.
‘What are you trying to say Harry?’
‘What I’m trying to say is,’ Harry swallowed nervously, ‘what about we start this relationship all over again?’
June felt her previous reservations falter. Harry looked so vulnerable. So genuinely remorseful. ‘I just don’t–’
‘Please say yes Juney. You’re an old-fashioned girl and I should have respected that. If you want an old-fashioned courtship then that is what you shall have.’
Another bit of June’s heart began to melt. She could feel her defences breaking down. And then she thought of the way Harry had behaved with Steph and Si earlier. ‘You don’t like my friends!’ she exclaimed.
‘Nonsense!’ Harry snorted. ‘I thought Steph was a charming girl. And Si seemed very–’ Harry struggled to find the right word, ‘
nice,’ he concluded.
‘Si is nice. He’s a dear boy.’
Harry was nodding his head very fast in agreement. ‘Absolutely. In fact, to show you how much I like Steph and Si, why don’t we all go out to dinner together? My treat.’
June felt the last of her defences fall away. Steph and Si meant the world to her. And here was Harry wanting to befriend them too. Properly. And offering slow courtship. No shenanigans. Maybe she could end up falling for Harry all over again. And maybe next time he kissed her it would feel different.
‘Okay,’ June nodded.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Excellent. And now my darling I will go.’ He took a step toward June and kissed her chastely on the cheek. ‘Goodnight sweet lady. I’ll see myself out.’
‘Goodnight Harry.’ June finally smiled. She didn’t see Ralph sitting at her heel. His lip was curled in a silent snarl.
Chapter Forty Two
When Steph awoke the following morning, Si had already left for work. She hadn’t heard him get up. She’d lain awake until almost three in the morning before Morpheus had claimed her. Now she felt drugged. The clock radio said seven thirty. Hell, she was going to be late for work if she didn’t get a move on.
Steph flung back the covers with more energy than she felt. She padded along the landing to the bathroom. Was this how the rest of her life was going to be? Waking up and feeling half dead? Steph looked at herself in the mirror. Not a pretty sight. A pair of dull blue eyes stared back at her. Copious crying had produced puffy bags.
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