‘Bloody caterers,’ she said to Scarlett. Then she looked horrified. ‘I’m sure they’re very nice as people, though. It’s just that I’m already at the top of our budget.’
‘I know some good caterers,’ Scarlett offered. Just thinking of the food at Dad and Felicia’s anniversary made her mouth water. ‘I used a great company for my parents’ anniversary party. Two sisters. I could give you their details.’
‘Oh gosh, no, thanks ever so much. What would I say to Octavia?’
She hadn’t even told Arthur about the other price increases, she confessed. He’d be furious. Not at Octavia for jacking up the costs, but at his wife for letting the budget get out of hand. It didn’t matter if the caterer was taking advantage or that Arthur kept coming up with expensive new ideas and more guests that she didn’t even know. She had to make it all work. Not that her family had any confidence that she could do it.
‘For once I’m not going to let them be right.’
‘But if there’s no more money?’ Scarlett asked.
Margaret looked sly but her smile was triumphant. She confessed that she’d been skimming off the house account to save up for the shortfall. Though much more thievery there and Arthur would probably notice that she’d started doing the weekly shop at Iceland.
‘Octavia does have great food at least,’ she continued. ‘But this is the third time she’s revised the price.’
‘You should definitely get another quote,’ Scarlett said. ‘Just to see what your options are. Then you could tell Octavia to get stuffed!’
Margaret laughed. ‘Oh, how I fantasise about it, but I haven’t got that kind of courage. I might need you to do it, Mrs Fothergill. Only joking! Although… I’d love for you to come to the party. It’s not till June. I mean, of course if you’re busy, or don’t fancy it, I understand. It’s just that it’d be nice to have another friendly face there.’
‘I’d love to come, thank you.’ Getting Rufus out of the house might show him that, in fact, life did carry on in spite of his reproductive system. She’d had to learn that lesson months ago.
‘I’m home!’ she called as she let herself in. She listened for Rufus. She was actually on edge in her own house. ‘Rufus?’ It was after seven. He wouldn’t still be at work.
She went through to the living room to find him slouched on the sofa. The dogs were in position beside him. ‘Killing the bad guys?’ she said when she saw the video game on.
‘Mmm.’ He craned his neck when she stood in front of him.
‘Have you eaten? Want me to fix something for us?’
‘No, thanks, I had a burger on the way home.’
‘Glass of wine? There’s that red that Shannon brought. It looks like a nice one.’
He pushed pause on the game. ‘Sure, thank you.’
The dogs followed her into the kitchen. ‘I know you’ve eaten already,’ she told them.
They stared at her.
‘Come on, you can’t be hungry.’
Ginger sat primly. Fred glanced at her and did the same, wagging his tail.
‘Shameless.’ Throwing them each a treat, she then filled a wine glass, took a few big sips and topped it up. ‘One for you and one for me.’
Rufus scootched over from the middle of the sofa so she could sit beside him. From the outside they probably looked like any other married couple settling in for the night. That was the hard part. They could pass for okay. Fake it till you make it.
‘Margaret invited us to her birthday party.’ When he didn’t answer she added, ‘It’s not till June. Do you want to see how you feel closer to the time?’
‘Thanks.’
‘How was your day?’
‘Really stressful, actually. Killing bad guys is relaxing me, though. What about you? Happy with the dogs today?’
‘Mmm hmm.’ She reached over to stroke his jeans-clad leg. As her hand moved higher she started to get a little turned on herself. Maybe that’s what they needed to get back on track. ‘Anything I can do to help with your relaxation? And just for the record, I’m not offering to make you cocoa.’
When he smiled at her, Scarlett felt a surge of hope. He hit pause again before he took her face in his hands and began kissing her. She sank gratefully into the feeling. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that. Which begged the question: why weren’t they doing it all the time?
Just as she put her hand under his jumper to find the soft chest hair that she loved so much, he said, ‘I would love to, sweetheart, but I’m not going to do us justice tonight. I’m pretty wiped out. Can I take a rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you.’ He kissed the end of her nose. ‘Promise.’
She couldn’t force the man to have sex. All right, fine, she could wait. But she wasn’t putting a long expiration date on that rain check. ‘You’re a big tease,’ she said.
‘You started it!’ But at least he was laughing. That seemed like a step forward.
‘I’m a bit tired, too,’ she lied, saving what little face she could. ‘And I need to give Gemma a ring anyway.’
She’d been thinking about it since she’d seen Shannon in the park. She very much wanted to talk to her sister. Maybe confessing her feelings to Shannon had been the Dulcolax she needed for her emotional constipation. Things seemed to be moving along in that department.
‘How are you feeling?’ she remembered to ask when Gemma picked up. She might protest that everyone babied her, but she got huffy if she didn’t get the chance to catalogue her condition within the first thirty seconds of any conversation.
As Gemma laughed over the flatulence that had been taking both her and everyone within a ten-foot radius by surprise, Scarlett tried to put aside her resentment. Objectively, logically, she knew it was unfair. Gemma hadn’t taken anything away from her by becoming pregnant. It wasn’t as if there was only one embryo in the universe for the Fothergill women to fight over. Scarlett knew all this, so every time her emotions cried Why not me? she bashed them on the head with common sense. The problem was the little buggers kept getting back up.
‘We got our test results back from the GP,’ she said when Gemma had exhausted her windy line of conversation. ‘I was wrong. My fertility is fine.’ She still got a flush of relief every time she said that. Every time she thought it.
Scarlett had to hold the phone away when Gemma screamed into it. ‘I knew it! You daft cow, you had nothing to worry about. You must be over the moon.’
‘I was. At least I was happy about my results. But there may be a problem with Rufus’s tests.’ That’s how she’d started thinking of it, as a problem with his tests. Not with him. ‘His sperm count is low.’ That sounded better than nil. ‘They’re doing the tests again, so we’re trying not to panic yet.’
‘Oh ,shit, I’m sorry, Scarlett. It’s fixable, though, right? Because they can do amazing things these days. I can ask Jacob, in fact, do you want me to?’ The phone went muffled as she called for her husband.
‘No, no, not yet, Gemma. Just wait, please. They’re doing more tests. I don’t know what they can do if they come back the same. I guess we’d talk to someone if that happens, so I’d rather not tell Jacob now if that’s okay. I think Rufus is embarrassed about it. He’s acting strangely, not like himself.’ She heard herself underplaying the real situation, making it sound like Rufus was having an off-day rather than a masculinity crisis. Under her new sharing-caring rules, that wouldn’t do. ‘I’m afraid of what’ll happen if they can’t fix the problem. It’s really bad, Gemma. He’s turning away from me and I don’t know what to do. Everything I try pushes him further.’ She might have laughed off his request for a rain check, but it hurt.
‘Right, I’m coming over. Jacob!’ Gemma shouted. ‘I’m going to Scarlett’s!’
‘No, you can’t come here. He definitely doesn’t want company tonight. He doesn’t even know I’ve told you. Really, Gemma, no.’
‘Then come here and we can talk properly.’
But she couldn’t do
that either. It didn’t feel right leaving Rufus. ‘I can’t.’
‘Well, I have to see you, and don’t argue with me. When?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve got classes tomorrow night and then I’m out with Shannon on Friday. Julian wants to go to some roller disco.’
‘I’ll come, too.’
‘To a roller disco.’
‘I’m pregnant, Scarlett, not geriatric. I’m coming. I need to see you.’
They talked late into the night, but Scarlett was no less troubled when she hung up. The only thing that was going to make everything better was good news from the GP.
Chapter 18
‘My skates stink,’ Shannon said, holding the old school roller skate away from herself. The teenage girl next to her made a face. It was mostly teens in the rink. Their laughter and shouts ricocheted around the black cloth-festooned tent.
‘That’s not your skate, it’s my sister. Say you’re sorry, Gemma.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘God, really?’ Scarlett exclaimed. ‘I was only joking.’
Gemma sighed. ‘I don’t know, it could be. I’m so gassy that I can’t even tell anymore. Best to apologise just in case.’ She already had her skates on and looked perfectly natural on wheels. For some reason she was dressed as Olivia Newton John during her aerobics phase – red spandex, fuchsia legwarmers, headband and all. Scarlett had forgotten how much Gemma had loved skating when they were younger. Dad and Felicia gave her skates for her birthday one year and she spent hours rolling up and down the pavement in front of the house.
‘C’mon, Shannon,’ Julian said. ‘We’ve only got an hour and I have moves to show off.’ He threw himself into a Michael Jacksonesque toe stand, sending his rah-rah skirt flipping up.
‘You promised to skate with me, Julian,’ she said. ‘Don’t you dare leave me to go showing off.’
Gently he took Shannon by the arm to help her stand. The skates looked huge at the ends of her skinny legs. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, my love. Up you go. Now, one foot in front of the other. That’s it, well done. Christ, you’ve got a strong grip.’
‘See you in there?’ Julian called over his shoulder as they moved slowly towards the rink, clutching each other and laughing like loons.
With Julian with them, Gemma hadn’t been able to dwell on Scarlett’s marriage. So she pounced the minute he left with Shannon. ‘How’s Rufus, honeypots? When do you get the test results?’
‘The GP said two weeks, and he’s okay. The same.’ Which meant definitely not okay. He’d been on the sofa with his video game again last night when she got in. She was starting to wonder whether there was room in their marriage for both her and Grand Theft Auto. Rufus definitely seemed to prefer the game.
‘You’re starting to show,’ she said, reaching to touch the little bump swelling under Gemma’s blouse. Tears spilt down her cheeks before she could stop them. Dammit, she promised herself she wouldn’t do that again.
‘I’m sorry, Scarlett.’
‘Don’t apologise! It’s not your fault you’re pregnant. Or that I’m not.’ She had to find some way past those feelings, for Gemma’s sake as much as her own. ‘I won’t lie and say it’s easy for me, but you shouldn’t apologise. This is my thing to deal with, not yours. Really,’ she said, hating to see her sister’s pained expression. ‘Everything will be fine.’
‘I don’t believe you, and no matter what you say, I won’t let you go through this alone.’ She stopped Scarlett before she could speak. ‘I know you’ve got Rufus. But you need me too, right?’
‘I do need you,’ she said. Four little words that, suddenly, she meant more than anything. Just admitting that felt like such a relief. Why had she ever thought she should, or could, shoulder everything herself? She didn’t have to, not with these two amazing women in her corner – clever, strong and most of all, there for her no matter what. A problem shared is a problem halved and all that. Or thirded, in their case. Even better.
They spotted Shannon pulling herself along the far railing. Gemma rolled confidently forward and was swallowed up in the circling crowd. ‘Hang on, Shannon, I’m coming!’ Scarlett called, trying to make a shaky glide on to the wooden floor. People whipped or wobbled past her as she aimed across the middle, where the show-offy skaters were spinning and whirling. The most show-offy of them all waved her down.
‘Julian, you’ve left Shannon crawling along the wall!’
‘Isn’t she doing splendidly!’ He executed a perfect pirouette, coming to rest in front of her with ta-da arms. ‘Well done, darling!’ he called to Shannon. ‘You’re coming on in leaps and bounds.’
Watching Shannon, Scarlett suddenly remembered the scene from Bambi when the fawn and Thumper went on to the ice.
She spotted the reason for Julian’s defection as he carved slow figures of-eight around her. The guy had to be a bodybuilder. She could see the outline of his six pack through his tee shirt. She narrowed her eyes as Julian’s gaze followed hers. ‘You are shameless.’
‘Just give me two more minutes,’ he stage-whispered to her. ‘I’m about to trip and fall over. Nobody can resist a damsel in distress.’
She reached Shannon just as the poor girl’s skate slid out from beneath her. ‘Hold on to me if you want,’ she said. ‘Is this any fun at all for you?’
‘Are you kidding? It’s great!’ she said, beaming. ‘I think I’m ready to let go.’
Was it possible that Shannon didn’t know how badly she skated? She had the rink’s railing nestled snugly in her armpit while she pulled herself along with the other hand. Scarlett had seen more graceful lurching in zombie films.
‘If you think you’re ready,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Hold tight to me and we’ll try. Ready?’
Shannon unhooked her long arm from the railing and, untethered, took a tentative step. ‘That’s it, right? I’m skating!’
They were standing stock-still while the throng swarmed past them. ‘Erm, almost. Take another step. That’s it. And another. Good. Here, let me pull you along, just a bit, so you can see what it feels like.’ At a snail’s pace they made their way around with Scarlett pulling and Shannon trying to walk on wheels. She was absolutely one hundred per cent terrible and the grin never left either of their faces.
It seemed like a long time since that had happened.
‘Is roller skating an Olympic event?’ Gemma asked later as she sipped her mocktail in the bar beside the skating rink. ‘Because I think you’re ready, Shannon, I really do.’
‘I’ll order my Team GB shirts,’ said Shannon. ‘Julian can be my doubles partner. We’ll be the Torvill and Dean of the roller rink.’
‘I did love her purple dress,’ Julian mused. ‘Though it’d need more sequins, of course. More pizzazz.’
‘Don’t we all,’ Scarlett said, peeling the top layer off the cardboard coaster under her wine glass.
Gemma raised her eyebrows. ‘Share with the group?’
She was right. The time had come. Haltingly, she explained about the mini ice age going on in her bedroom, filling Julian in on the test results to give him the full picture. She even confessed to the sex behind her mum’s neighbour’s garage, though she kept her shaving to herself. ‘That seemed to get us back on track,’ she said. ‘But there’s been nothing since then. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do. I can’t get my husband to have sex with me. That’s not good, is it? So I’m throwing myself on the mercy of the court. What do I do?’
Julian spoke first, which surprised her. They’d known each other for a few years, but they weren’t especially close. Though maybe it took an outsider to have the right perspective on the problem. ‘It sounds like he needs to be re-manned. Like being resurfaced, but with testosterone. As someone with a penis, I know I’d feel like shit to hear those test results.’
‘You have a penis?’ Shannon joked.
‘See? That’s your problem. You, collective noun: women. You shouldn’t make jokes about a person’s manhood. Unless you
’re that Mexican guy with the world’s longest schlong, or King Mongkut, you don’t realise how one wrong word can permanently scar a guy.’
The three women stared at him. ‘Who and who?’ Shannon asked.
‘Don’t you remember? That man who wanted his penis put into the Guinness Book of Records. He weighed it on kitchen scales? I sent you the video link. And King Mongkut was the king of Thailand in the eighteen hundreds. He fathered loads of children.’
‘I underestimated your expertise in world events. Sorry,’ Shannon said.
‘Wasn’t that the king from The King and I?’ Scarlett asked.
‘Mmm hmm, played by the delicious Yul Brynner,’ Julian said. ‘My point is that news like this must be messing with Rufus’s head.’ He snorted at his own double entendre. ‘If he feels like a man, then he’ll want to shag again.’
‘Julian might be right,’ said Shannon. ‘You know how sensitive Rufus is sometimes. Throw yourself at him and he’ll get back to normal.’
‘I did throw myself at him and it didn’t work.’ Her face reddened with the memory of the other night.
‘Then, darling, throw harder.’
Julian’s words rang in her ears as she got back to the house. She could see the glow of the TV on in the living room, but Rufus didn’t stir. She kicked off her shoes in the hall and hung her coat. Throw harder. She unbuttoned her blouse and fluffed her hair. Come on, you can do better than that. Smiling to herself, she shimmied out of her jeans and peeled off her shirt. You’re not even trying. Harder.
Love is a Four-Legged Word: The romantic comedy about canines, conception and fresh starts Page 14