‘Yes you know – she has a cloud of dark swingy hair, high slanting cheekbones, pumped up lips, pumped up boobs, a pert bottom – that’s probably pumped up too – and she’s just a teensy weensy bit stunning.’
In fact, she was an awful lot like Jamie’s ex-girlfriend. My stomach lurched.
‘Hey, hey, listen to me Cassie. I’m not Brad Pitt, you’re not Jennifer Aniston and we’re not going to split up. Okay? I’m crazy about you. I know its early days yet but I seriously believe we have a future together. I certainly want a future with you, all of us together one day under one roof.’
‘You mean living together?’
‘Well yes, although I really meant married and living together.’
‘Are you proposing?’
‘Kind of,’ Jamie grinned. ‘Although I’d rather give you a proper old fashioned proposal when the time’s right. Down on one knee and all that sort of thing. And preferably when you are fully divorced and had some time on your own.’
‘Are you worried I’m on the rebound?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well I’m not. I rebounded disastrously some time ago.’
‘Is that so?’ he teased.
‘That doesn’t mean I’ve been, you know, putting myself about!’ I spluttered. ‘I’m not that kind of girl.’
‘I know you’re not Cassie, don’t fluster yourself so,’ Jamie twinkled. I had a feeling he was laughing at me. ‘We’ve both been married before and have four children between us. Nonetheless I reckon you and I would make a great team and collectively we’d be a cracking fam-’
Jamie ground to a halt. He looked appalled.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Cassie I’m so sorry. I’ve leapt way ahead here and I’m coming on too strong. I’ve probably terrified you. I just wanted to try and express how you make me-’
I put my finger to his lips and smiled. I felt as if my whole body was smiling.
‘We’ll be fabulous together. All of us.’
‘I have one small confession.’
‘What’s that?’
‘My surname.’
‘Mac?’
‘Yeah. Well, it’s actually an abbreviation.’
‘Don’t tell me. You have Scottish blood running through your veins and in a minute you’re going to confess you’re Jamie MacTavish, the laird of umpteen highland acres with a castle to reclaim.’
‘Er, no. Do you remember telling me that your maiden name was Haddock and how much you hated it?’
‘Y-e-s.’
‘Well, if you marry me you’ll have another awful surname.’
‘Oh?’
‘My surname is Mackerel.’
‘So one day I’ll be Mrs Mackerel?’
‘Yes. From Miss Haddock to Mrs Mackerel.’
‘Sounds like we’re made for each other,’ I grinned.
Inevitably I stayed the night although neither of us achieved a great deal of sleep. I awoke with a start around seven and briefly wondered where on earth I was.
‘Wow,’ Jamie grinned at me. ‘Do you always wake up looking this beautiful?’
‘Oh yes,’ I replied airily. ‘The dishevelled look is my speciality.’
Despite the lack of sleep I actually felt wide awake and sparkly eyed.
We shared a power shower together before breakfasting on warm croissants and orange juice. If only every day started in such a romantic and civilised fashion.
Back home, seconds after my key opened the front door, Nell bustled up behind me, Rocket at her heels.
‘You don’t have to worry about Liv and Toby. They’re watching Meet The Fockers on DVD with Ben and Dylan.’
I frowned. ‘Is that suitable viewing.’
‘Probably not. Meanwhile we have – ooh – a good ninety minutes all to ourselves. I’ll put the kettle on while you sit down and spill the beans.’
I sighed in resignation and sat down, Rocket flopping to the floor under the table.
‘So!’ Nell exclaimed. ‘What’s he like in bed?’
She was given a heavily diluted account of the bedroom activity and absolutely no mention of the marriage word. Instead I gave her lots of extravagant detail about the scented candles and rose on the pillow, just so she didn’t feel too deprived of details.
‘How wonderful!’ Nell sighed. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a bit of romance.’
‘Well go and grab some!’ I urged. ‘Book yourself a nice weekend somewhere with Ben and I’ll look after Dylan for you. And Rocket,’ I added hastily catching my neighbour’s arched eyebrow.
‘No,’ Nell wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t want romance with Ben thanks very much.’
I was suddenly concerned. ‘Things are okay with you and Ben aren’t they?’
‘Sure,’ she gave a tight smile. Subject closed.
The following morning I dropped Livvy and Toby at the stables and spotted Jonas and Petra grooming their pony. Realising with a jolt that they might one day be another son and daughter, I decided it would be a good idea to muster up some interest in their pony.
‘What’s her name?’ I nervously patted the noble tossing head.
‘Smokey,’ Petra smiled. ‘But he’s a gelding.’
‘That means a male horse whose balls have been chopped off,’ my son informed me gleefully.
‘Thank you Toby,’ I heaved a sigh. ‘Well I’ll leave you all to it. See you later.’
As I walked back to the car, the tail end of Petra chatting with Livvy floated across to me on the breeze.
‘I really like your mum,’ I heard her say. ‘As parents go, she’s quite cool.’
Unlocking the car, I realised I was smiling.
Chapter Fifteen
A few days later Stevie telephoned absolutely raging.
‘Have you seen my fucking house?’ he screamed.
‘Ah, you’re back.’
‘Yes. And I’ve returned to vandalism and destruction courtesy of bloody Charlotte. Somehow I need to oversee an entire house refurbishment when I’m due back at work tomorrow. Can you help me out?’
‘Never mind your blasted house for a moment. What about asking after your children who haven’t seen or heard from you in quite a while?’
‘Sorry, sorry. I’ll come over right now.’
Stevie arrived just as I was making coffee.
‘I’ll have one of those too. H-e-y kids!’ he flung his incredibly brown arms wide as both children hurtled into his embrace.
‘How about a proper get-together,’ he grinned down at them, ‘just as soon as I’ve sorted out my house?’
‘What’s wrong with your house?’ asked Livvy.
I shook my head imperceptibly.
‘Nothing that can’t be put right with a little help from your Mum.’
Stevie then went on to tell me he already had a team of decorators lined up who had agreed to pull all the stops out until the job was finished. My input was to let the boss man into the house the following morning.
‘So! How was the holiday?’ I asked nosily.
‘Fabulous thanks. We had a marvellous time cruising around Cyprus, Egypt and Israel.’
‘We?’
‘Simone and I.’
‘I’m staggered you dumped somebody as young and stunning as Charlotte.’ I put a plate of biscuits on the table next to the coffees.
‘We didn’t connect on anything other than a horizontal level, if you catch my drift. I seriously thought about pressing criminal charges against her, but on reflection I guess she was simply expressing her angst.’
‘That’s an understatement,’ I muttered.
‘Simone is everything that Charlotte isn’t,’ Stevie enthused. ‘She’s mentally stimulating, extremely cultured, widely travelled and highly educated.’
‘I see.’ I couldn’t resist taking a sideways snipe. ‘What’s this one then – a gap year university student?’
‘Simone is a fifty-eight year old marine biologist.’
I nearly choked on my cof
fee.
Bloody hell. I mean bloody bloody hell.
The high powered painting and decorating team turned out to be a chap who bore a striking resemblance to Del and Rodney’s Grandad with a motley entourage of younger male relations. Grandad – or George to give him his correct name – was in no hurry to start the job and keen to pass a minute or ten gossiping.
‘Ooh ’ave yer seen all the mess his young lidy made?’ George sucked his cheeks and pulled his flat cap over his eyes, even though it was nudging almost thirty degrees outside.
‘Ah’ve bin in the decoratin’ bizniss forty years and I said to my missus last night, I said I ain’t niver seen nuthin’ like this.’
‘Yes it is a bit of a challenge George,’ I agreed, privately wishing he would get on with painting over the mess rather than reading it.
‘Bit of a wag was she? Had a sense of humour like?’
‘I wouldn’t know George,’ I replied removing lids from paint pots. Surely he’d take the hint soon?
‘Wot’s this bit say?’ George adjusted his half moon spectacles with a gnarled hand. ‘My hamster has a bigger willie than Stevie Cherry. Aw, that’s not very nice is it?’ He broke into wheezy guffaws of laughter, his smoker’s lungs crackling with the effort.
I straightened up from the paint pots. ‘Well George, I won’t hold you up.’ Surely that remark couldn’t be any clearer. ‘See you later.’
The heat of the day gave way to a gloriously warm evening. Jamie came over with Petra and Jonas for an impromptu garden barbecue. As Jamie stood over the smouldering griddle, an arm slung casually around my shoulders, I gazed adoringly up at him. And failed to spot Stevie standing stock still by the side gate.
‘Daddy!’ Livvy squeaked excitedly.
I glanced up to catch Stevie’s frozen expression, his eyes hard as flint, and found myself jumping like a scalded cat.
Twittering nervously I introduced the ex-husband to the boyfriend. It was a seriously weird moment. The two men politely shook hands but without any warmth. The air around Stevie hummed with hostility. Jamie’s face was an expressionless mask. I inwardly cringed, fussing about needlessly with lemonade bottles and plastic wine flutes.
‘Sorry to interrupt happy families.’ It was said lightly but I knew Stevie well enough to detect the edge in his voice. ‘I dropped by to give you the new key to the house Cass. The locksmith’s been,’ he added by way of explanation. ‘See you later.’
After he’d gone Jamie gave me a curious look. ‘Cassie I hate asking you this, but why would your ex-husband give you a key to his house?’
I explained the Charlotte problem and my overseeing the decorators. Jamie slowly exhaled, a relieved expression on his face.
‘You surely weren’t thinking something else were you?’ I folded my arms across my chest, head on one side enquiringly.
‘Not at all. Well yes actually. Just a little bit. I’m very aware you haven’t been separated for that long Cassie. There’s a deeper part of me that fears you and Stevie could reconcile. I don’t want to get caught up in a triangular relationship – or for that matter get hurt.’
Knocking the burger prongs from Jamie’s grasp I grabbed his hands tightly in mine.
‘The only reunions I want,’ I said earnestly, ‘are with you – whenever you’re off duty and whenever we can get together, be it with or without our children. I love you Jamie like I’ve never loved any man before,’ and with that I hurled myself at him, kissing him full on the mouth.
‘Ew, they’re snogging again,’ Jonas’ voice drifted across the garden.
Despite George and his boys initially getting off to a slow start, it became apparent over the next few days that there was no stopping them.
One afternoon I popped over to Stevie’s house and was amazed at the swift transformation. Clean bare walls were almost reinstated and the battered fireplace had been repaired.
When Jamie telephoned that evening it was with the suggestion of staying at his house for the entire weekend.
‘Ooh yes please,’ I agreed happily. ‘So Petra and Jonas will be at their grandma’s overnight?’
‘No, not at all. Mum’s going rambling for the weekend with her crowd of golden oldies so the children will be here too.’
‘Oh. Oh. Right.’ I struggled to get my head around this arrangement. It was taking our relationship in front of the children from a slow and steady introduction to top gear overnight. The idea of sleeping in Jamie’s bed with Petra and Jonas just across the landing wasn’t a comfortable thought. And what would Livvy and Toby say when they found out?
‘Um, Jamie, I’d rather not do that just yet. It’s too soon.’
‘Sorry darling, I’m coming on too strong again aren’t I! It’s just me being selfish and wanting to take every opportunity to be with you.’
‘So, er, did other girlfriends stay overnight when the kids were in the house?’
‘Other girlfriends?’
‘You know – other lady friends. Did the children ever wake up to discover another woman in the house with Dad?’
I was aware that voicing the question out loud had made me feel irked. One could even say jealous.
‘No. Never.’
‘Not even Wossername?’
I had a childish urge to refer to her as Semolina.
‘Selina? No way.’
‘So what did you do when you – you know – wanted to get together?’ I persisted, even though the mere thought of the ravishingly gorgeous Selina lying in bed with my man was causing mental havoc. Vivid pornographic pictures were unfolding in my brain and I couldn’t find the remote control anywhere to flip the image off.
‘I’d go to her place.’
I was seriously uptight now. Couldn’t help it.
‘Just as an aside – and I really hope you don’t mind me asking this,’ I snarled into the handset, ‘why did you split up with Selina?’
‘Because, with the exception of work, we had very little in common. She was absolutely not into children and when she did meet the kids she could hardly be bothered to say hello. I also found her incredibly vain, attention seeking, boring and shallow.
Excellent news.
‘So why did you go out with her?’
‘Well, she suited my life at that point. I was happy to have occasional female company but I was never in love with her – and she knew it. In fact the catalyst for us breaking up,’ Jamie hesitated, ‘was you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes you! Selina figured I had a soft spot for you when you crashed on the ski slope. I was adamant about staying with you and told her to go on ahead, remember? She was apoplectic with rage and we had a big row about it later that evening. And once back in England I insisted on detouring to your house to see how you were. You may recall she was in the car. It was the last straw for her and the massive argument that followed was our last. But never mind Selina. She’s the past. You’re my future Cassie and I want our children to start getting familiar with that.’
Jamie had said our children. That had sounded so nice. Like his children were my children and mine were his. They were ours.
As things turned out, I did end up staying the night at Jamie’s house. Morag and Matt had telephoned with an impromptu invitation to celebrate their respective Nisi and Absolute insisting we join them for dinner and to bring Petra and Jonas too. Matt had the children from his second marriage staying the weekend who were good pals with Jamie’s two.
‘Let them stay overnight with us,’ Matt suggested. ‘They’ll have a load of fun watching unsuitable DVDs and feasting on popcorn.’
‘Don’t you mind having all these kids staying when you’re after private time with Matt?’ I asked Morag buttonholing her in the kitchen.
‘Of course not,’ she replied peering into the depths of the overloaded dishwasher for free space. ‘The children don’t really want to hang out with Matt or me very much anyway. They think we’re a pair of old fogies!’ she laughed.
‘Doesn’t Mat
t worry about his kids being emotionally screwed up seeing you practically installed in the house and spending nights with him, not to mention all those step-children? It’s not what I would call a stable home environment.’
‘Of course it is!’ Morag reversed out of the dishwasher looking most indignant. ‘All Matt’s kids and step-children are just fine with it. They’ve all endured watching their parents split up, meet other people, re-marry, split up again, meet someone else, live together, split up. But Matt’s always been here for them with the door wide open. Fortunately there have never been any access struggles so each child has never lost sight of their main parent and is perfectly capable of taking the comings and goings of lovers or step-parents within their stride. Don’t fret so. Kids are far more adaptable than you think.’
The incredible joy of waking up with Jamie by my side was an unexpected heavenly treat. I rolled over kicking the cumbersome duvet off and gazed lovingly at his handsome face in sleep.
‘You’re staring at me,’ he mumbled, eyes still tightly shut.
I grinned and flopped back happily against the feather pillows. ‘Do you ever sometimes experience a really bizarre sense of déjà vu about us?’ I stared up at the ceiling making cloudy pictures in the uneven paint swirls. ‘Ours is a fledgling relationship and yet I feel like I’ve known you for such a long time. Forever in fact. It’s so weird.’
Jamie reached out and pulled me across the rumpled bedclothes into his arms. ‘That’s because we’re right for each other.’
Later, when I’d returned home, Stevie unexpectedly turned up on the doorstep.
‘Mind if we talk?’ he asked pushing straight past me.
‘Why don’t you come in,’ I muttered to his retreating back.
I followed him through to the kitchen.
‘I’ll come straight to the point Cass,’ Stevie leant back against the sink, arms outstretched either side of the draining board. ‘What’s with you and Boy Wonder?’
‘Who?’
‘Mr Cop Man,’ Stevie spat. ‘The chap who seems to have made one hell of an impression upon my kids. When I last saw the kids they couldn’t stop prattling on about him. I gather you all jollied off to Spain together and played ecstatically happy new families. Took your little buckets and spades down to the beach and made dear little castles in the sand. Re-enacted We’re All Going on a Summer Holiday starring Cassandra Cherry and PC Flat Foot. Don’t you think you should have asked my permission first before electing this guy to step unasked into the father figure role?’
STOCKINGS AND CELLULITE Page 25