“Well, that was the idea!” I had the words said before I remembered the reason it had to look so different.
But Mark had already turned from the door and was fighting with Harry about the best way to lift the bookcase.
One hour later we were standing in the finished room surveying our handiwork.
“Oh, Dad, it’s amazing!” was all that Jamie could keep saying.
“I know, son.” Mark smiled. “But you have to say a really big thanks to Holly – it was her idea and it took a lot of work. Her biggest job was getting Uncle Harry to come down and do a bit of physical labour.”
“Thanks, Holly!” To my surprise Jamie put his arms up for a hug. “And I’m sorry about the restaurant but this is waaaay better. I’d forgotten this room was even here! It’s like magic!”
I looked up at Mark but he looked away.
“Well, maybe tomorrow Dad might see about getting you a TV for in here.” I’d have said anything to change the subject. “What do you think, Mark?”
“Well, the children in this house would have to be awfully good!” he said, trying to sound serious, but I could tell that he too was glad of the change of direction.
“We are, Dad! Even Amber’s not as bold. Nana said so!”
I have to say I was secretly thrilled at this remark, but I just smiled and said, “Now, now, Jamie, I think we should leave your dad and Harry to organise our tea, and why don’t me and you see if there’s any more of your toys we could bring in.”
“Hands up for chips!” shouted Harry, shooting his long arm up into the air.
I smiled and, going next door to the TV room, started to pick up Lego from the carpet. I was so pleased with the new room. The whole house already seemed brighter, partly because a lot of the toys that had littered every inch of floor space were now ensconced in brightly coloured plastic tubs in the new room, but mostly because a door that had always been shut was now open, and the room within a bright sunshiny yellow.
“So what’sgoing on?”
I paused as I heard Mark’s voice in the room next door.
“Sorry?”
“Don’t‘sorry’ me – you and Holly, and all that huggy-huggy stuff.”
My cheeks flamed. I didn’t know whether to make my presence known or not.
“Would you ever relax? We’re friends – that’s what friends do, Mark.”
Mark grunted. “Well, don’t get any ideas,” he muttered.
“Eh – she has a boyfriend?” Harry was getting cross now.
“Never stopped you before,” Mark snipped.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I didn’t have to be able to see them to know that they were about to square up to each other so I leapt to my feet and crashed into the room with the plastic box of Lego.
“So, who’s going to go for the food?” I asked innocently, pretending not to notice that you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.
“Actually, I think I’ll head off home,” Harry said, staring at Mark.
“Mightn’t be a bad idea,” said Mark, equally coldly.
“No, you’re not,” I said firmly. “The kids would be very upset. And so would I. Whatever is wrong with you two, get over it and start acting like adults.”
“I don’t know why you’re including me in that!” Harry looked affronted.
“Takeaway!” I said sharply. “Both of you. Now!”
To my shock they instantly looked sheepish and there was no further talk of Harry going home. In fact, the rest of the evening passed off pretty well.
Good old Supernanny! I wonderedif she knew her methods worked on children of every age?
Chapter 36
And before I knew it, it was Wednesday again.
The days were starting to fly by. We’d settled into a nice routine. Yes, the mornings were still chaotic, but I was sure that was normal in any house with small children. Once Jamie was in school, myself and Amber usually walked home via the river. She adored the ducks and the fresh air always knocked her out.
And while her behaviour had come on in leaps and bounds, there was no escaping the fact that my favourite two hours of the day were during her naptime.
While she was asleep I ran around the house, straightening the beds, putting on washes and preparing the dinner. Then she’d wake and we’d have our lunch together before taking out her paints or jigsaws. She really thrived on having one-on-one time. In fact, the more she thrived, the more I hoped that whoever replaced me would give her the same attention.
Every time I thought of leaving, I felt sick with guilt. All I could do was console myself with the thought that the house I would be leaving was very, very different from the one I’d come to.
I’d be like Mary Poppins, sailing into the air with my magic brolly, leaving a scene of domestic bliss on the pavement below . . .
And yet, despite this aura of domestic bliss that had settled around No 12 Meadowlands, I still lived for Wednesdays and Fridays.
On these nights I gave the children their tea, Mark would arrive home, and I would race upstairs to “de-child” myself, attempting to get some way back to the old, glamorous me.
This was proving harder and harder to do. I hadn’t appreciated how much time looking good had required out of my busy day.
Until the days got busier.
And yes, it felt slightly ridiculous to get so glammed up only to ride two buses to a rural pub in the back end of nowhere. But then Oliver would walk in, and I would be so glad to have made the effort, and of course, it was all worth it for the journey home . . .
I simply couldn’t have coped without the excitement of looking forward to those two nights.
This particular Wednesday night I really pushed the boat out. I took a notion and pulled my Alexander McQueen handkerchief dress from the back of the wardrobe, and in a moment of high giddiness, decided to risk giving it an outing.
Calling back over my shoulder lest my outfit draw derisory remarks from the surly Mr Fielding, I slipped from the house and practically skipped to the bus stop, pulling some loose change from my pocket for the fare.
As usual, there weren’t very many people in the pub. Of course the only other customers, two old men, stared at me as I walked in. Pulling my by-now-feeling-very-skimpy denim jacket closed, I strutted my way to my usual seat and waited for Oliver to arrive.
And waited.
And waited.
At first I wasn’t too worried. Any minute now he would ring to say he was nearly there. I reached into my bag to check my phone wasn’t on silent.
It wasn’t there.
I rummaged around again.
It definitely wasn’t there. I remembered now where it was. It was in my other bag.
With my wallet.
Shit. I really, really hated to be without my phone.
And I’d used up the last of my change on my by-now-half-empty glass of wine.
Fine, he would be here shortly and as he was late the drinks would be on him.
Twenty minutes later I checked the change in my pocketagain to see if I could even stretch to a fizzy water.
No.
Shit.
Where was he? For a brief moment I wondered had he been in an accident, but I dismissed this as just being melodramatic. The other thing that lurked in the corner of my mind was the night Cain had stood me up at the Guggenheim, and it was this memory that was making me nauseous.
What followed were thirty of the longest minutes of my life, and with each minute the sense of panic in my gut rose, and rose.
From the corner of my eye I could see the two old men in the bar looking at me, smirking. My earlier cockiness was starting to fade and I deliberately made no eye contact with anyone.
Oliver was now forty-five minutes late.
I would give him one hour and then I was leaving. I raged silently at the thought of having to get two buses home. I would kill him.
The bastard.
And then I remembered I couldn’t get tw
o buses. I had no money.
At this point I would have burst into hot, angry tears had I not been so aware of every eye in the pub being on my by-now-ridiculous figure.
What was I going to do?
God help me but the tears were coming anyway . . .
I heard the door open behind me but, before I could turn, one of the old men had waved his arm in recognition.
It wasn’t him.
Great. Some other asshole to make fun of me. I was definitely going to kill Oliver Conlon when – if – I got home.
As my audience was currently distracted, I got up from my stool to slip out.
Then the newcomer stepped to my side and, kissing me on the cheek, said, “Holly, darling, I’m so sorry. I got held up in surgery.”
I looked up, my hand to my cheek.
“Mark?”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry – come on, we can still make dinner.”
Mark Fielding.
Mark Fielding was here.
Mark Fielding was here and had kissed me.
My poor brain couldn’t get over which element of what had just happened shocked me the most.
Before I could open my mouth he took my arm, calling to the two by-now-open-mouthed old men, “Night, Tom, night, Mr Benson!”
“Night, Mr Fielding!” they chorused.
I blushed at the impressed looks on their faces, wondering how on earth Mark didn’t mind the rumours that would no doubt be circulating the farming circles in the morning.
Once outside he stopped.
“Sorry about the kiss – it seemed like a good idea at the time!”
I looked at him in shock, my cheek still on fire. “Never mind that, what are you doing here?”
From his pocket he produced my phone.
“You left this behind.”
I looked at him blankly.
“He sent a text. Hang on, I’llshow you.” Pressing a button on my phone, he read: “‘Can’t make it, will phone tomorrow. O.’ That’s one charming gentleman you’ve gotyourself there.” The sarcastic look was back in his eyes.
“But how did you know –”
“Where you were? I called him.”
I nearly choked as my breath caught in the back of my throat.
“You what?”
“I called him. To be fair, he didn’t answer. Some girl did.”
Catherine.
That’s why the fucker had stood me up. He was with Catherine.
I suddenly felt so sick I couldn’t even look back up at Mark. This was fast turning into the worst night of my life.
“What did you say to her?” I whispered, not really wanting to know the answer.
“Well, obviously I didn’t know what name to ask for, so I said I had a missed call from this number, and she put me on to him. Oliver, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “And what happened then?”
“I told him that you had forgotten your phone. He sounded surprised and not best pleased really, but he’s a good man for speaking in code – said he couldn’t help me at the moment, but would phone from the office tomorrow. I expressed my concern again that you were somewhere waiting for him – again he said his hands were tied. As I said, charming. Anyhow, at that stage I called him an inconsiderate prick and explained that if he didn’t send me a text in the next five minutes, letting me know exactly where you were, then I was going to call around, and even if it took tying his legs as well, he would have to tell me in person. And so here I am.”
“Oh Jesus Christ.”
I didn’t know what was worse, the embarrassment of Mark having to come and get me, or the sheer terror of what Oliver was going to say to me tomorrow.
I climbed into the Land Cruiser in silence. I had never been in it before, and couldn’t help noticing how tidy and organised it was.
Mark climbed into his seat. And suddenly we were alone together.
And I wasn’t sure if it was because he’d kissed me, or because we were sitting so close in a dark car, but I couldn’t take the silence a second longer.
“Your jeep, it’s so tidy,” I said stupidly.
“That surprises you?” he asked.
“Well, yes, given the state of the house.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect, Holly,” he said sharply. “I mean, look at you, an intelligent girl who’s wasting her time on some married asshole.”
“He’s not an asshole!” I snapped before I could help myself.
“Ah, so he is married.”
I didn’t answer him. Both cheeks were now flaring red. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.
He turned in his seat, and in the light of the streetlamp I could see his eyes were full of disdain – as much for me as for Oliver, I suspected.
“And he is an asshole! He was quite ready to leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’d have been fine! I’m able to look after myself, you know!”
“Really? Well, you are certainly appropriately dressed for this neck of the woods!”
I pulled my jacket around me. I was sure my face was by now puce with embarrassment.
“Just how exactly were you going to get home?”
“I was going to get the bus!”
“Oh, were you now?” His eyes were blazing with sarcasm. He reached into the glove compartment, took something out and held it up. “Here’s your wallet. It was with your phone!”
What could I say? The hot tears finally came and, mumbling thanks, I turned to the window so he couldn’t see the first of them slide slowly down my cheek.
It was going to be a long drive home.
Chapter 37
“What the fuck was that all about?”
Oliver didn’t phone until lunchtime the next day, but he was every bit as incandescent with rage as I’d predicted. In fact, I’d considered not picking up the phone at all but I knew that avoiding him was only prolonging the agony.
“Excuse me? I was the one left sitting in a pub in the arse end of nowhere!” I snapped back, the mortification of the whole evening still very fresh in my head.
“Oh for God’s sake, Holly, you’re a big girl now!”
“I’m well aware of that, Oliver, but I still think an apology would be nice.”
“For what? Do you think I did it on purpose?”
“That’s hardly the point.”
“No, the point is that you forgot your fucking phone! How that has become my fault is beyond me.”
“I’m not saying that it was your fault.”
He had a point. I could hardly blame him for the fact that I’d left the house leaving my two key possessions behind.
“And who in God’s name was that ignoramus that phoned me?”
“He’s not an – he’s just a friend.”
“Oh really? Well he didn’t sound like just a fucking friend to me. That’s another thing, Holly – I’m getting all sorts of stick from you about Catherine but, to be honest, I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re up to these days.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, don’t sound all fucking angelic now! I mean, you’re sharing a house with that Harry guy and now this other prick comes out of the woodwork. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
“He’s Harry’s brother if you must know and there is nothing going on with either of them. How dare you imply otherwise!” My head was starting to hurt with the abuse he was throwing at me.
“How dare I? Have you any idea how obnoxious he was last night?”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t know he was going to phone you! Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was when he arrived to collect me?”
“Oh, he collected you, did he? What a fucking knight in shining armour!”
“Oh for God’s sake, Oliver! Yes, he was actually.” Even though I was tired, and my head was thumping, I couldn’t let him twist this to be somehow Mark’s fault. “And if he hadn’t, God knows what would have happened. I’d no phone and I’d no wallet either. You shou
ld be thanking him today – he had to get a baby-sitter to mind his kids while he came and collected me – do you know that? If you thought anything about me at all, you should be thanking him. Now if you don’t mind, I’m not in the mood for this today. I’m tired and I’m pissed off.”
“What do you mean a baby-sitter? He has kids?”
“What has that got to do with anything?” I hissed back, looking over at Amber who was blissfully playing with plastic bowls on the kitchen floor. “I told you, he’s just a friend! What, you’re allowed a girlfriend but I can’t have a fucking friend?”
“I’m entitled to ask!”
“No, you’re not! You are entitled to nothing. It’s all your fault that we are in this mess. If you had any idea what I’ve done to try and keep this relationship going! Well, forget it,” I was crying now, “it’s finished. I’ve had enough.”
I terminated the call and burst into tears.
Next thing there was a little head of golden curls in my lap.
“No cry, Holleee!” A little hand patted my knee.
Shit, I’d forgotten all about Amber. I scooped her up into my arms, worried about how much of my bad language she might have heard.
“I’m sorry, honey! Holly is just being a big Silly Billy.”
“Silly Holly,” she smiled at me, reaching up one chubby hand to pat my cheek and I couldn’t help smiling back.
Just then, my phone started to ring. I looked at the screen. It was Oliver. I pressed the reject buttonand looked at Amber.
“Do you know what, baby? I want you to promise methat when you’re a big girlyou won’t listen to any rubbish from boys – promise?”
The poor child nodded happily, and I hugged her again as hard as I could.
And then I heard the front door open. My cheeks flared again with embarrassment. I had been dreading meeting Mark and had hoped that some extreme veterinary medical emergency might keep him at work for a week.
The journey home with him the previous night had been one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life.
He’d glowered the whole way and I’dsat in silence beside him, trying my hardest not to cry. We were half an hour from home when I grabbed his arm.
Between You and Me Page 24