Aware that she was gawping when a passing waitress gave her a curious look, Chantelle snapped her mouth shut and glanced around until she located Bill at a table to the rear of the room. When she spotted Rob Knight waving to her from the bar, she took a deep breath and walked calmly over to him.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘Thank you,’ she said shyly, clutching her bag to her stomach. He looked even more handsome than the last time she had seen him, and his aftershave smelled divine.
‘Would you like to sit here, or would you prefer to find a table?’ he asked.
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Okay, we’ll stay here for now,’ Rob said decisively, holding out his hand to help her up onto a tall stool. ‘We can always move when Greg gets here. What can I get you?’
‘Just a Coke, please.’ Chantelle settled on the stool and crossed her legs.
‘Driving?’
‘Er, no, I got a cab. Just don’t want to drink before I’ve met your friend, in case I say something stupid.’
‘Doubt that’d happen,’ said Rob, waving the bartender over. ‘But you’ve got to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.’
After ordering their drinks, he sat on the stool facing hers. ‘So, how have you been?’
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘You?’
‘Busy.’ He shrugged. ‘Nothing new there, though. Never seem to have a minute to myself, these days.’
‘What do you do?’ Chantelle asked, nodding thank you to the barman when he placed her drink on the counter.
‘Computer stuff,’ Rob said, removing the stick from his cocktail. ‘All very boring. How about you? What’s your line?’
‘I, er, look after children,’ Chantelle lied, taking a sip of the icy Coke.
‘Rather you than me,’ Rob chuckled.
‘Don’t you like kids?’
‘Nope. Do you have any of your own?’
‘Not yet.’ Chantelle smiled. ‘One day, maybe, but there’s too much I want to do first.’
‘And a boyfriend would probably help,’ said Rob, reminding her that she’d told him she was single.
‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘But even if I had one I’d have to know he was the right one before I considered having children with him.’
‘Sensible.’ Rob nodded approvingly.
‘So, doesn’t your wife want children?’ Chantelle asked. Then, blushing, she said, ‘I’m guessing that’s a wedding ring on your finger?’
Rob nodded and took a swig of his drink.
Chantelle noticed that his smile had slipped, and said, ‘Sorry, that was none of my business.’
‘Hey, don’t apologise, it’s not a secret, or anything. I’m just …’ Rob trailed off and sighed, before adding, ‘Actually, I’m in the doghouse at the moment. She reckons I work too hard.’ He made quotation marks with his fingers and rolled his eyes. ‘But businesses don’t run themselves, so what can I do?’
‘Must be hard,’ Chantelle said sympathetically.
‘Yep. Although I don’t hear her complaining when she’s splashing out on shoes and weekend spa breaks with her girlfriends.’
‘Nice,’ Chantelle murmured enviously. She hadn’t thought that women actually did that kind of stuff in real life, but women with rich husbands obviously did.
‘Yeah, nice for her,’ said Rob. ‘I’m just the mug who slogs my guts out to bankroll it. But enough about me and my high-maintenance wife; tell me about you.’
‘There’s not much to tell.’ Chantelle shrugged. ‘I work with kids, and occasionally go out for a drink with my friend. Other than that, I lead a pretty boring life.’
‘What a waste.’ Rob shook his head and gave her a teasing smile. ‘With a face like that, you should be out every night. Still, once Greg gets his hands on you, you’ll need a big stick to fend the fellas off. Subject of …’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I wonder where he’s got to. If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ll find somewhere quiet and give him a ring.’
When he stepped down off his stool and walked away, Chantelle glanced across at Bill. Her boss was studying the videophone and, to anyone who didn’t know, she appeared to be reading and sending text messages. Chantelle was pleased about that, because she often worried when she was on a job that she might be being too obvious.
She smoothed her skirt over her knees now and took another sip of her Coke. She hoped Rob’s friend was on his way so she could get this over with and go home. Rob was nice, but she had never felt comfortable lying to people’s faces, and she was terrified of tripping herself up.
‘I am so sorry about this,’ Rob said when he came back a couple of minutes later. ‘Greg can’t make it.’
‘Oh?’ Chantelle was relieved, but forced herself to sound disappointed. ‘That’s a shame.’
‘He’s caught up in some video shoot on the other side of town,’ Rob said, sitting on his stool again, ‘and he reckons it’ll be at least another couple of hours before he gets away. If you’re willing to wait, he’s told me I must buy you dinner.’
‘Thanks, but I’d best not,’ Chantelle said. ‘I’ve got an early start in the morning.’
‘No worries.’ Rob smiled. ‘I can introduce you to Greg another time.’
‘Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind,’ Chantelle said, figuring that there was nothing more to be gained from this. Rob had already admitted that he was married, so he obviously wasn’t going to try it on with her. The job was done, as far as she was concerned.
‘Really?’ Rob gave her a regretful look. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘I just don’t think it’s for me.’ Chantelle reached for her bag. ‘I’m really sorry for wasting your time.’
Rob held up his hands. ‘Hey, it’s totally your choice; I wouldn’t dream of making you do something you’re uncomfortable with. But can I at least get you another drink before you go?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ Chantelle smiled. ‘Maybe you should go home and spend some time with your wife while you’ve got a chance? Might get you out of the doghouse?’
‘She’s out with the girls,’ Rob told her as he stood up. ‘But not to worry, I’ve got plenty of stuff to catch up on. Can I drop you somewhere? My car’s just across the road.’
‘Oh, no, really, I don’t want to put you out,’ Chantelle said quickly. ‘I’ll get a cab.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Rob put his hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the elevator. ‘But I’ll pay your fare.’
‘There’s no need.’ Chantelle cast a furtive glance in Bill’s direction.
‘I insist,’ Rob said, letting her know that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
‘Okay, thank you. But I, er, just need to nip to the bathroom before I go.’
Chantelle rushed to the toilets and fell through the door, then paced the floor until her boss ambled in. ‘He’s insisting on getting me a cab home,’ she whispered worriedly. ‘What should I do?’
‘Go,’ said Bill. ‘But if he tries to get in with you, say no. And don’t give the driver your real address. Get him to drop you by the library in Chorlton; I’ll follow and pick you up. Now, stay here for a minute, give me a chance to get to my car.’
‘Okay.’ Chantelle felt a little calmer. ‘See you in a bit. And please don’t lose sight of the cab.’
‘Have I ever lost track of a car I’m tailing?’ Bill raised an eyebrow. Then, smiling, she patted Chantelle on the arm and made her way back out to the bar.
As directed, Chantelle waited a short time before following her out. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised to Rob. ‘Got something in my eye; took me ages to fish it out.’
‘Is it okay?’ he asked, taking her face in his hands and peering into her eyes.
‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ Chantelle murmured, blushing again as she caught another waft of his expensive aftershave.
The elevator door opened just then, and they were forced to step aside as several people poured out. When i
t was empty, Rob waved for Chantelle to go in ahead of him. Out on the pavement a minute later, he flagged down a black cab and held the door open for her.
‘Where to?’ the driver asked.
‘Barlow Moor Road,’ Chantelle told him as she climbed onto the back seat.
Rob passed a £20 note to the driver before leaning in to kiss Chantelle on the cheek. ‘Sorry it didn’t work out, but you’ve got my number if you change your mind again.’
Chantelle thanked him and sat back. Then, waving when he closed the door, she breathed a huge sigh of relief when the cab pulled away from the kerb.
No longer in the mood for a confrontation, Chantelle was glad that Leon was asleep when she got home. She didn’t know why she was so tired, considering that all she’d done tonight was talk, but she felt totally worn out and couldn’t wait to go to bed.
Ten minutes later, having washed off the heavy make-up, changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed, she had just begun to doze off when the front door slammed back against the hall wall. Scared that it had been kicked in, she jerked upright, but lay back down when she heard her mum’s and Miguel’s raised voices. They sounded drunk, and it was clear that they were arguing, but she had no intention of getting involved.
Mary had other ideas.
‘Oi, you!’ she barked, bursting into Chantelle’s room and switching the overhead light on. ‘What’ve you got to say for yourself?’
‘What are you on about?’ Chantelle squinted up at her.
‘Don’t come the innocent with me,’ Mary snarled, marching over to the bed and glaring down at her. ‘Thought you could nick me man from under me nose, did you?’
‘What?’ Chantelle’s brow creased deeply and she pushed herself up on her elbows. ‘I don’t know what he’s told you, but—’
‘He’s told me everything, so don’t bother denying it,’ Mary spat, weaving now as she towered over her daughter. ‘I can’t believe you’d do that to me, your own mother. But I should have known you couldn’t be trusted. You act all la-di-fuckin’-da, but you’re just a little slag underneath it all. Bet you’ve shagged your way through half the estate while I’ve been gone. And how many of me other boyfriends did you make a play for when my back was turned, that’s what I’d like to know?’
‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Chantelle said calmly. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone, never mind one of your boyfriends. Do you really think I’d do that to you?’
‘Yeah, ’cos you’re jealous of me,’ Mary retorted nastily. ‘Always have been, always will be, ’cos I’m white, and you wish you was, an’ all.’
‘I have never been jealous of you for that.’ Chantelle was starting to get angry now, too.
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ Mary sneered. ‘You’ve always wanted to be like me, but you’ll never do it, ’cos I’m fun, while you act like you’ve got a sodding great mop stuck up your arse.’
‘I don’t want to talk about this any more,’ Chantelle said coolly. ‘I’ll see you in the morning when you’ve sobered up. You’re talking rubbish, and we’re just going to end up saying stuff we don’t mean.’
‘Oh, so you think you can take me on, do ya?’ Mary reached down and seized Chantelle by the hair. ‘Come on, then, if you think you’re hard!’
Chantelle gritted her teeth as the pain burned her scalp. ‘Get off me,’ she said firmly. ‘I mean it, Mum, let go of me right now.’
‘Or what?’ Mary tugged at her daughter’s hair. ‘Think you can handle me, do ya? You might be taller, but you ain’t harder, and that’s a fact.’
‘I never said I was,’ Chantelle argued, holding onto her mum’s wrists to keep her from tearing the hair right out. ‘But I am not putting up with this, because I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘Apart from try and shag my fella,’ Mary reminded her. ‘Well, tough, ’cos he didn’t want you. And you know why? ’Cos you ain’t all that. You think you are, but you ain’t. You’re ugly and boring, just like your father.’
Chantelle couldn’t take any more. Tears stinging her eyes, she leapt out of bed and wrenched her head free of her mum’s grip, then shoved her forcefully towards the door. ‘Get out before I do something I regret,’ she cried. ‘It was him who tried it on with me, if you must know, and he got a kick in the balls for it, but I bet he didn’t tell you about that, did he? Even if I liked him, which I don’t, do you really think I’d go near anyone who’d screwed you?’
‘You fuckin’ what?’ Mary screeched, stumbling as her daughter pushed her out into the hall. ‘You lying cow! Why would he try it on with you when he’s got me?’
‘Ask him,’ yelled Chantelle, furiously pointing at Miguel who was slouched against the living-room door. ‘Go on, ask him.’
‘I ain’t asking him nothing,’ spat Mary, straightening herself up. ‘I know he loves me, so he wouldn’t do that to me. But you …’ She looked Chantelle up and down with a hateful sneer on her lips. ‘You’d do anything to get attention, you. But you ain’t getting it off my man, so keep your fucking eyes off him in future.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I don’t want to look at him,’ said Chantelle. ‘If I never saw him again it’d be too soon. Now leave me alone – I’m going to bed.’
‘Bitch!’ Mary spat when Chantelle closed the bedroom door in her face. ‘I’ll be watching you.’
Chantelle climbed back into bed and pulled the quilt over her head. She’d been on the verge of dropping off when her mum burst in, but she doubted she’d get any sleep now. Her body felt wired, and her stomach was churning so badly that she was glad she hadn’t eaten earlier or she’d have been in danger of throwing up. She couldn’t believe Miguel had lied about her like that – or that her mum had believed him. He’d probably thought she was going to grass him up and had decided to get in there first. But God help him if he came near her after this, because she would rip his greasy head off.
17
The atmosphere in the flat was heavy during the next few days, and Chantelle prayed each morning that Bill would call with a job for her. Nothing came and, rather than stay in her room all day, she took to walking into town and wandering around until she thought that her mum and Miguel were likely to have gone out. Whenever their paths did cross, Miguel couldn’t look her in the eye, and Mary made it clear that she still wasn’t talking to her. It was unbearable, and so unfair, but there was nothing Chantelle could do about it if her mum didn’t believe her.
What upset Chantelle most was the thought that they might not have resolved their differences in time for the wedding. Mary was happily forging ahead with her plans, and Tracey seemed to be a permanent fixture in the flat as they organised everything between them. They had nicked some wedding magazines from the newsagent’s, and were always ooh-ing and ah-ing over dresses and rings and hairstyles and flowers and suits … Chantelle didn’t even know if the date had been set yet, but she couldn’t ask because she wasn’t even sure that her mum was going to invite her. And Leon was in a world of his own, so she couldn’t even ask him.
She was feeling so low when she got a call from Rob one morning that she almost didn’t answer. But curiosity got the better of her.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Not disturbing you, am I?’
‘No, I was just reading,’ she told him, surprised to find herself smiling at the sound of his voice. But then, with no one speaking to her at home just now, any friendly voice would have been welcome. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Just wondered what you’re doing tomorrow?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said cautiously. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’d like to invite you out for a meal,’ Rob said. ‘And you’ll be doing me a massive favour if you say yes.’
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
‘I’ve got to wine and dine a client and his wife. The missus was supposed to be coming, but she’s decided she needs another break,’ Rob explained. ‘I was relying on her to keep the client’s wife entertained while we get on with business, but she’s scuppered that. S
o I thought, why not ask Julia? She’s smart, beautiful, and great company – perfect hostess material. So, what do you say?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.’
‘Sure, no pressure. But you really would be doing me a favour. And you’ll have a great night, I promise. Top-class restaurant, no expense spared. I’ll even pay you for your time.’
‘No, that’s not necessary,’ Chantelle said. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Okay, I’ll do it.’
‘You’re a lifesaver,’ Rob said gratefully. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight, if that’s okay?’
‘No, I’ll make my own way there,’ Chantelle told him, hoping as she said it that the restaurant would be in town and not near his house, which was miles out. ‘Just tell me where to meet you.’
She cut the call after writing down the name of the restaurant, and bit her lip. She supposed she really ought to tell Bill. But she wasn’t going to be alone with Rob, so it wasn’t like he was asking her out on a date, or anything. And he’d offered to pay her, so he was obviously being honest about it being a business thing. It was flattering to know that he considered her a fitting stand-in for his wife, and she couldn’t deny that it would be nice to get away from the horrible atmosphere in the flat for a while. So, no, she wouldn’t bother telling Bill.
Happier than she’d felt all week, Chantelle got up and checked her wardrobe for something nice to wear. Nothing seemed quite right, so she decided to head over to the market and spend a bit of her savings on a new dress. Nothing too expensive, just something classy that the wife of a rich businessman might wear for dinner at a posh restaurant.
‘Behave,’ she scolded herself as she pulled her coat on. ‘It’s not a date, it’s a business arrangement, and don’t you forget it.’
Anton was washing out a glass at his kitchen sink when Chantelle walked past. He waved when he saw her but she didn’t see him, so he rushed to the door in time to see her disappear down the stairs. He decided there was no point trying to catch up with her because he would need to go back inside and get his jacket and keys first, by which time she’d probably be long gone. Anyway, he was already late for work, and he didn’t want to push his luck now that he had rent and bills to pay. He would just have to catch her another time and tell her about the party.
Respect (Mandasue Heller) Page 18