Flings and Arrows

by Debbie Viggiano

  ‘Tom,’ Tom mumbled.

  ‘Okay. Ready? Look at me Tom. I said LOOK AT ME! And one, two, three. Keep that eye contact! Four, five, six. Eyes Tom! Better. Now we do it to music. Watch everybody please.’

  Darrius hit the remote control. He minced forward and back. His eyes bored into Tom. Tom blinked. Darrius didn’t. He held unwavering eye contact. Tom felt as though Darrius were reading his mind. He felt exposed. A smile played around Darrius’ mouth. Tom cringed. Darrius’ eyes spoke volumes. And then suddenly Darrius was breaking away, pushing Tom back into the dance circle while he pointed his remote control at the hi-fi. Tom assumed a partner change was coming up again. He turned to the person on his right. It was the blonde girl Aiden had looked smitten with. Tom straightened up. Time to flatter another female. And this one would do very nicely.

  At that precise moment Darrius clapped his hands for attention. ‘Okay everybody. We’ll now have a fifteen minute break. Go have a cold drink. Cool down.’ His eyes found Tom’s. Tom looked away. He turned his attention to the blonde.

  ‘Hi. I’m going to have a lager. Can I buy you a drink?’

  ‘Sure. Thanks.’

  ‘You’re not with anybody?’ Tom asked. ‘I don’t want to tread on your boyfriend’s toes – although I’ve trodden on plenty of others this evening.’

  The girl laughed. ‘I’m definitely on my own. I thought I’d try this place out. I’ve heard lots of old guys come here.’

  Tom stood at the bar. He could see Aiden pushing his way over. Tom flashed a look that said too late sucker. Aiden’s shoulders drooped and he retreated. Tom pulled his wallet from a back pocket. Thankfully his father had given him twenty quid recently. He gave the barmen their order.

  ‘So what do you want to meet old guys for?’ Tom asked conversationally.

  ‘I’ll be perfectly honest with you,’ said the girl. ‘I’m looking for a husband. Older guys are more likely to want to settle down.’

  ‘So you wouldn’t be interested in the likes of me,’ Tom smiled.

  ‘Only for fun. If you catch my drift.’ The girl gave Tom a very direct look.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Tom returned the look. Better and better. She wasn’t interested in commitment, just bedroom high jinks.

  ‘Aren’t you a bit young to be thinking of getting married? You can’t be more than eighteen.’

  ‘I don’t want to work,’ the girl shrugged. ‘I have no qualifications and I don’t want to stack shelves in Tesco.’

  Tom winced. Better to keep this girl away from his mum in the future.

  ‘Well there’s always further education. You could get qualifications.’

  ‘I can’t be bothered,’ the girl shrugged. ‘I want someone to look after me. That’s why I want an old guy. They’re usually the ones with the money.’

  ‘Very mercenary.’ Tom handed her the drink.

  ‘Not really. I just know what I want in life.’

  ‘Well you sound like my sort of girl. I’m Tom by the way.’

  The girl took a sip of her drink and looked up at him. ‘And I’m Melody.’

  Chapter Forty Eight

  Steph was the first to break the kiss. She pulled back from Barry, breathless. Her heart was beating very fast. She could almost feel the blood whooshing around her body. Who needed a gym for cardiovascular workouts when all you had to do was snog someone like Barry Hastings? Steph smiled shakily. Breathe. Just breathe. In. Out.

  ‘Well!’ she exhaled noisily. Her legs were in danger of giving way. She wondered if Barry would mind if she had a little lay down. Preferably right here on the pavement, outside Blackheath Station.

  ‘Are you okay Steffy?’

  Steph nodded moronically. She didn’t think she’d ever be okay again. Right now she had some very strange, conflicting emotions racing through her.

  ‘Shall I see you onto your train?’

  Steph nodded again.

  ‘You’re very quiet all of a sudden. Are you sure you’re okay?’

  ‘Yes,’ Steph smiled brightly. ‘Just feeling a bit, you know–’ she cast around helplessly. What was this strange sensation? It had been so long since she’d experienced it. Ah yes. Lust. ‘Hot!’ Steph fanned herself with her hand. ‘Phew!’ She wasn’t lying either. The familiar red flush was creeping up her neck.

  ‘Come on. Let me see you onto your train.’

  Barry walked to the platform with her. A part of Steph hoped the train would be cancelled so that she’d have extra time with Barry. But the voice of reason wanted Steph to catch the train quickly and distance herself. Steph was very aware that she was sailing into unchartered waters. It was all very well letting her heart lead her into romance with Barry Hastings, but her head was ringing loud warning bells.

  ‘Bye my darling,’ Barry kissed her on the lips, briefly this time. ‘Until tomorrow.’

  Steph walked through the train’s automatic doors. ‘Bye.’ The doors hissed shut. As the train pulled off, Barry put up a hand. Steph waved back. Seconds later he was out of sight. She made her way over to an available seat. Leaning back against the head rest, Steph went over the evening.

  A hen party had been in full, riotous flow. The hens had sunk three bottles of champagne and laughed raucously throughout their meal. Barry and Steph had ended up yelling across the table to each other. And then there had been that peculiar waiter. He’d sidled up to take their order, but ended up almost camping out at the next table. At first Steph had flattered herself thinking the waiter fancied her. And then, because the waiter had stared so hard at Barry, she’d presumed he’d fancied Barry instead. In the end she’d decided the waiter was just plain odd.

  The meal hadn’t been a romantic success. But then again, it wasn’t meant to have been. It had been set up under the safe heading of school friend reunion. However, Steph didn’t need her old Headmaster to point out that somewhere over the candlelight and wine, there had been a connection. A chemistry. After all, not many old school chums concluded the evening by snogging the faces off each other. Steph felt very guilty about that. Despite Si’s indiscretions, she was still married to him. Kissing another man didn’t sit comfortably with her conscience. Thinking about Barry’s kiss made her go hot again. She couldn’t deny that it had been wonderful. Thrilling. Intoxicating. As she’d stood on the pavement with Barry’s lips locked on hers, the years had fallen away. She’d felt transported back in time. It was as if a teenager within her had awakened. A part of Steph had stepped out of her forty-five year old body. Suddenly she was no longer the wife of a faithless husband or mother to a sex-mad son. She was young again. Desirable. And it had felt so damn good! But now? Well, now she was back to being forty-five year old Steph Garvey – with sensible bullet points firing off in her brain. Steph’s mind trawled through them:

  Barry Hastings wasn’t married. Good news. But – bad news – Steph was. But probably not for much longer. However, Barry hadn’t been entirely truthful in his e-mails. He had been married. Steph wrestled with her conscience. So what? If she and Si divorced – which was very likely – she would then be the same as Barry. A person with a past. But, her conscience pointed out, there was a little bit more to it than that, wasn’t there? Steph’s mind frantically tried to dodge the final bullet point that demanded acknowledgement. Okay, okay. Steph mentally put up her hands in surrender. He’d been married more than once. Where was the sin in that? The bullet point whacked her on the head. Didn’t she think six times was a bit much though? Her conscience boggled at her. Six times!

  ‘Six times?’ Steph had gasped. The waiter had leant in, his brow furrowing in concentration.

  ‘Yes,’ Barry had said. ‘Absolute God-awful track record. I’m so ashamed to tell you this Steffy.’

  ‘Whatever went wrong?’ The waiter had left his table and come right up to theirs. Picking up the wine bottle, he’d topped up their glasses. V-e-r-y slowly.

  ‘The first time I married,’ Barry paused. ‘Well. I was far too young. And so was she. Went off with
somebody else.’

  Who had gone off with somebody else? Barry? The wife? Unsure, Steph had nonetheless arranged her features into one of sympathy.

  ‘Number Two. It was a rebound thing.’ Barry had shrugged.

  Steph had nodded understandingly.

  ‘Number Three. She died.’

  Steph gasped. The waiter slopped the wine.

  ‘Number Four,’ Barry shrugged again. ‘Well. Another rebound thing.’

  Steph and the waiter had been slightly slack-jawed.

  ‘Number Five. Would you believe she died too?’

  ‘My Gods,’ the waiter had muttered.

  ‘And Number Six,’ Barry had trailed off. Gazed at the melting candle for a moment. ‘Number Six went off to Vegas for a girly weekend.’ Steph and the waiter had stared at Barry agog. ‘She fell in love with a casino owner.’

  ‘Bad luck,’ Steph had croaked. The waiter, shocked, had retreated.

  Barry’s eyes had then filled up. ‘My mates call me Henry the Eighth – on account of the six wives.’ He’d blinked frantically before giving a sad laugh. ‘All I’ve ever wanted is to settle down with one person.’ His eyes had found Steph’s. Bored into hers. Despite everything, her heart had done a few skippy beats.

  ‘Do you have children?’ Steph had asked.

  ‘Yes. Four. I pay a fortune in maintenance. Do you mind if we get off this subject?’

  ‘No, no. Gosh. Not at all,’ Steph had cried. Then she’d picked up her glass and tossed the wine down her neck.

  The train rumbled on. Steph closed her eyes. But despite Barry’s unfortunate track record, she had felt helplessly drawn to him. Drawn enough to agree she would see him again. Tomorrow night. At his apartment.

  Chapter Forty Nine

  Si scrolled through his mobile phone’s contacts list. He found Steph’s number and hit the call button. She answered on the third ring.

  ‘Hello,’ Si spoke into the hands-free. ‘I just happen to be near the station. I was wondering if you were on the train and wanted a lift home.’

  ‘You just happen,’ Steph sounded cynical, ‘to be driving past at this time of night?’

  ‘Well it’s not that late,’ said Si.

  ‘So you’ve been out.’ It was a statement, not a question.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you have a good time?’ Steph asked bitterly.

  Si thought his wife’s tone was a bit much considering she’d been out with another bloke. And making out on the street. ‘I’ve had better,’ he replied.

  ‘Amanda not up to scratch tonight?’

  Si didn’t rise. ‘I didn’t see Amanda.’

  ‘Oh sorry. Was it Dawn’s turn tonight?’

  ‘Steph, why are you being like this? You’re the one seeing somebody else. Not me.’

  ‘I’ve been out to dinner with an old school friend,’ she said primly. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘I went to school with Barry Hastings too. But I wasn’t invited along,’ Si pointed out. ‘Did you have a good time?’

  ‘I’ve had better,’ Steph parodied Barry’s words.

  Better what? Better meals? Better kisses?

  ‘Did he kiss you?’ Si blurted.

  Steph hesitated. ‘He kissed me goodnight.’

  She made it sound as if it were a chaste peck on the cheek.

  ‘Are you seeing each other again?’

  Another pause. ‘We had a lot to talk about and not enough time. So yes. We’re meeting up tomorrow night. Just to finish off...things.’

  I’ll bet, thought Si. He needed to do some fast thinking here. No way was he having Barry Hastings waltzing off into the sunset with his wife.

  ‘Of course,’ Si tried to be laid back. And failed. ‘So where’s Captain Marvel taking you tomorrow?’

  ‘Si, if you’re going to be sarcastic about Barry then I think we’ll drop the subject. It’s not really any of your business anyway. You’ve not told me where you’ve been tonight. There’s no honesty on your part. Only mine.’

  ‘I’ve been totally honest with you Steph. All along.’

  ‘Well that’s a matter of opinion,’ Steph’s voice started to rise. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. ‘I don’t want to continue this conversation.’

  ‘Okay,’ Si rubbed his eyes wearily. And then winced. They still hurt like hell. ‘I’m at the station.’

  ‘So am I now. I’ll see you in a minute.’ Steph hung up.

  Si sat back and waited. His mobile phone chirruped with a text message. Si leant forward. It was from the waiter. Just to let you knows, Number Six is significant. Maybes they plan something naughty six times. Si grunted and clicked off the message. They wouldn’t be doing anything naughty even once if he had his way.

  Steph opened the van door. ‘Hello,’ she said tersely.

  ‘Hi.’ Si leant over the handbrake and kissed Steph on the cheek.

  ‘I think you should stop doing that.’

  ‘Why? You’re my wife. As I keep reminding you.’

  Steph stared at him. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘Fire away.’ Si started the van up.

  ‘Why does this vehicle stink of garlic? And,’ Steph paused, ‘why is there a plate by my feet?’

  ‘Sorry. I was in a rush earlier,’ Si pulled out. He put up a hand to thank a driver who’d given way. ‘I decided to eat on the go.’

  Steph stared at Si incredulously. ‘Most people have a sandwich on the hoof. Not china and cutlery.’

  Si was anxious to change the subject. He hoped there wasn’t a napkin lurking around with Strada emblazoned upon it. ‘So,’ he smiled cheerily. ‘Home we go. I’m looking forward to my bed.’

  ‘Yes. You must be exhausted,’ Steph gazed out the window. ‘It’s jolly hard work not remembering who you’ve been out with.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to drop the subject.’

  ‘I do. Sorry.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Si nodded. ‘But before we do, I’ll just leave you with this thought. If I had been out wining and dining another woman and given her a very thorough good night kiss,’ he glanced across at Steph and saw she had the grace to blush, ‘do you honestly think I’d have gone out looking like this?’ Si indicated his clothes. He was still in his work attire. ‘I haven’t even had a shave.’

  ‘Perhaps your women aren’t fussy,’ Steph sniffed. ‘Dawn looks like a tramp. Perhaps she’s happy to bonk one too.’

  ‘Gee, thanks Steph.’

  ‘Oh sorry. Does slagging off your trollop upset you?’

  ‘No. But comparing me to a tramp does.’

  There was a highly charged silence. Steph had two pink spots of anger on her cheeks. Si felt extremely annoyed. His wife had been out canoodling with another man, confessed she was seeing him tomorrow and yet was still trying to take the moral high ground. Unbelievable! On the other hand, Steph didn’t like hearing Si had been out this evening. Her sniping and bitching about Dawn and the mysterious Amanda clearly incensed her. If she wasn’t bothered about Si, then surely she wouldn’t care who he saw. Which meant Steph still had feelings for him. Si felt slightly heartened. All the time there were feelings, there was something to salvage. He certainly wanted to rescue his marriage. It was just a case of persuading Steph to feel the same way.

  Si turned into Jessamine Terrace. The lights were on at Number 42. Tom must be home from his salsa lesson. Si hoped Tom hadn’t brought Aiden back with him. He didn’t want fireworks breaking out between him and Steph in front of an audience.

  ‘Hi Mum! Hi Dad!’ Tom beamed. ‘It’s really good to see you both together. Fantastic!’

  ‘Well don’t get too excited,’ said Steph. ‘Your Dad just –’

  She stopped abruptly. Si cannoned into her.

  ‘You wanted me to introduce you to all my friends,’ Tom rushed on, ‘and not take liberties. I know it’s late and I’m not giving you much notice. But I want you to meet somebody I think you’re really going to like.’

  Steph seemed pa
ralysed. Si looked over her shoulder. Gravity tugged at his jaw. ‘And she’s the same age as me!’ Tom said triumphantly. ‘Meet Melody.’

  Chapter Fifty

  Tom pushed Melody forward. She’d been hovering behind him, uncertainly. Tom had thought Melody’s apprehension quite sweet. For all her talk about wanting a Sugar Daddy and not wanting to work, Tom had detected a vulnerability to Melody. And that appealed to him. It made him feel strong. Protective. Usually women wanted to mother him. It was quite nice to discover a nurturing streak within him.

  ‘Pleased to meet you Mr and Mrs Garvey.’ Melody stuck out a hand.

  Steph shook it limply. ‘You look terribly familiar.’

  Melody shrugged. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you love,’ Si stepped forward and pumped Melody’s hand.

  Tom was perplexed. There was a forced jollity about his father. Tom felt like he’d flicked through the television channels, stumbled across a film and was trying to work out the plot. Something was going on here. But he’d be blowed if he could figure out what it was.

  ‘Mel and I met at the salsa class earlier on. We hit it off.’ Tom put an arm around Melody’s shoulders. ‘We’re going upstairs now.’ Tom suddenly hesitated. Looked at his mother anxiously. ‘If that’s all right with you Mum? Just to practice some dance moves. And stuff.’

  His mother was nodding. She didn’t look quite with it. Tom knew his mother was menopausal. Perhaps being spaced out, along with the hot flushing, was another symptom.

  ‘I’ll see Melody home later,’ Tom said. ‘Unless of course,’ he looked meaningfully at his mother, ‘you don’t mind Mel crashing out. On my floor.’

  ‘I don’t think so!’ Melody said indignantly. ‘I’ll sleep in your bed. You can sleep on the floor.’ She turned and giggled at Steph. ‘I’ll bet that’s what he tells all the girls eh!’

  Steph looked at Melody blankly.

  ‘Ha ha,’ Si laughed jovially, ‘very good. We’ll say goodnight. We’re off to bed ourselves. Come on love.’ Si pushed Steph towards the staircase. ‘See you in the morning Tom.’