The Big Five O

by Jane Wenham-Jones

  ‘Well it was fine and nothing actually happened – well we had a kiss but I felt a bit – well I didn’t want him to stay. So he went, and then the next day he sent these texts saying how wonderful I was and he couldn’t wait to see me again. I woke up to a string of them. It was completely over the top.’

  Fay shrugged. ‘You are pretty well-preserved, love. Probably thought all his Christmases had come at once.’

  ‘And then–’ continued Sherie, ‘the last one said he was a bit disappointed I hadn’t taken my profile down from the dating site. That I was still ‘making myself available’ when we’d agreed we would see each other again. Well I had said, yes, we could have dinner but we hadn’t actually made a firm arrangement – and we’d literally been out for one drink–’

  ‘Clearly a nutter,’ put in Fay.

  ‘So I ignored all the messages for a bit and they kept coming so then I sent a very nice one – I thought – saying it had been a lovely evening but I wasn’t sure we were really very well suited and I was sorry I had disappointed him but since I couldn’t assure him of the level of commitment he obviously wanted it was probably better if he looked elsewhere and I hoped he would find someone lovely who would share his outlook.’

  ‘I’d have told him to sling his hook and pronto.’

  ‘And then,’ said Sherie, hearing the slight wobble in her voice, ‘the abuse started. He keeps talking about ‘women like me’ and saying did I get a kick out of playing power games and all sorts of stuff.’

  She told Fay about blocking him and him re-appearing the next day with another phone number. ‘It’s like I’ve done something really awful. Honestly it’s like I’ve jilted him at the altar.’ She looked at Fay in alarm. ‘Suppose he really is a nutter? Suppose he comes round?’

  ‘Who?’ Nate was standing beside them, carrying a beer for Fay.

  ‘This creep who is plaguing Sherie,’ announced Fay. ‘Some loser she met on a dating site,’ she added, apparently oblivious to Sherie’s discomfort.

  Nate looked at Sherie. She could see the disapproval written across his face.

  ‘He won’t come round,’ Fay went on, blithely ignoring Sherie’s furious expression. ‘Men like him may give it all that from the end of a text. But he wouldn’t have the balls to turn up.’

  ‘If you need help, you phone me,’ said Nate tightly. ‘I’ll be down in seconds.’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ Sherie shot Fay another look. ‘It’s just someone I had a drink with – he’s a bit keener than I was.’

  She tried to smile, feeling mortified that Fay had announced the situation like that. Now Len was here and he too, was looking concerned. ‘You should tell the police if someone’s hassling you,’ he said kindly. ‘Don’t let him make you afraid. Nobody should be allowed to destroy your peace of mind.’

  Sherie nodded back – had she imagined it or had Len’s eyes flicked towards Fay when he said that.

  Nate wasn’t looking at her, but his mouth was set. He probably thought she was sad and desperate to be meeting strangers she’d found online. Especially at her age …

  Fay looked thoughtful. ‘Have you still got these numbers?’

  ‘Yes, if I access the blocked list.’

  ‘Give them both to me.’

  Sherie felt uneasy. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Fay snorted. ‘Make sure he doesn’t bother you again. Text them to me now.’

  ‘But how–?’

  ‘Seriously Sherie. I’ll sort it.’

  She held up a hand as if that were the end of the matter. Len gave a small shake of his head and then nodded at Sherie’s empty glass. ‘You sure you won’t change your mind? Let me get you another,’ he said.

  ‘OK, thank you. A small one.’

  ‘I found Cory a bit over-enthusiastic at first,’ Fay swept on, when Len had gone back to the bar. ‘But he’s settled down now. And of course he’ll be off like a long dog as soon he finds someone his own age who’s desperate to be up the duff.’

  ‘How old is he?’ Nate looked curious.

  ‘Just turned twenty-four. I bought him a day driving a racing car. He was so excited he was like a kid – which is exactly what he is. He’ll think differently when he’s thirty. It’ll be all marriage and babies then and towing the line.’

  Nate shrugged. ‘Not all men want children.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Fay looked doubtful. ‘Most of them do. Their over-inflated egos dictate that they go forth and replicate themselves, as if the future can’t possibly do without them in the gene pool. All the men I know have felt compelled to spread their seed.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘No? Oh well, good for you – I mean I agree – I can’t be doing with the little bastards either but–’

  ‘Fay!’ Sherie wanted her to stop now. ‘My nephews are gorgeous.’

  Fay ignored this. ‘Generally speaking, a younger man is eventually going to want a younger woman. I know that and–’

  ‘Not necessarily.’ Nate hadn’t looked at Sherie since the revelation about her dating disaster and still his eyes were averted.

  Sherie saw Fay wink at him before she shrugged. ‘Exception that proves the rule.’

  There was a small uncomfortable silence. Sherie looked at her nails. Fay rose to her feet and picked up her cigarettes. ‘Text those numbers now,’ she commanded before heading for the door. Nate stood up too. ‘I’ll help Len with those glasses.’

  Sherie leant under the table and retrieved her bag, fishing in it for her phone. Len was only bringing one drink and Nate knew it. He didn’t want to be left alone with her. Embarrassed, probably, by the exchanges. She knew there was no point in trying to persuade Fay to be a bit less outspoken. Fay would probably only laugh and repeat anything she said when the others came back. There were no new messages. Relieved, Sherie started to put the phone back when a WhatsApp pinged in making her jump again. Fay had sent a smiley and one word. NOW!

  Outside Fay leant back against bricks still warm from the evening sunshine, tapping at her phone screen.

  Len appeared by her side and propped himself on the windowsill.

  ‘I think it’s illegal to make threats,’ he said mildly.

  ‘Do I look as if I care?’

  She carried on tapping. ‘I’m not threatening him anyway. I am simply giving him a friendly warning, quoting the malicious communications act of 2003 and pointing out, in my role as a community police officer–’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That he is contravening it by sending electronic missives designed to cause anxiety or distress to one of the residents on my patch. I have assured him that no action has been taken to date save the tracing of the details attached to the mobile numbers deployed, but should he persist in these offences, I will be handing it to one of my colleagues who will investigate further.’

  Len shook his head. ‘You’re so funny.’

  ‘If that doesn’t work, we’ll go and do his knees.’ Fay gave a sudden hoot of laughter. ‘Do you remember that bloke who didn’t want to pay us? The one with the dogs?’

  Len grinned and nodded. ‘I was scared, never mind him.’

  Fay laughed again. ‘I told him to pay up or I’d have his legs broken. And he believed me!’ She clapped Len on the shoulder, sounding thoroughly pleased with herself. ‘Nobody messes with me.’

  Chapter 15

  ‘Please don’t touch!’ Roz got up from her chair in the corner of Turner Contemporary’s large white North Gallery for the umpteenth time and strode towards the Victorian style bathtub artfully filled with papier mâché ‘treasure’. The coins-into-money-box installation downstairs was proving hugely popular, with queues forming for a chance to climb the ladder and send the yellow discs clattering below, but some visitors were seeing this interactive opportunity as carte blanche to put their sticky hands on everything.

  ‘Sorry.’ The young man she’d addressed edged away but his pink-haired girlfriend stood her ground and glared at Roz. Roz nodded to
wards the notice nearby.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said curtly.

  She was overdue a break and could do with a pee. Melody should have been up here five minutes ago. Roz pulled her radio from her belt and put a call out. When Melody did not respond, Roz sighed.

  Now the couple had wandered out, the room was empty. Checking down the corridor to see if anyone else was approaching who looked likely to start prodding the exhibits, Roz signalled to Holly, who had just taken over in the gallery opposite, that she was shooting out – something that was highly forbidden even if there were nobody there – and went quickly to the top of the stairs, running down the first flight to see if Melody was on her way. As she came around the corner to the second flight down, she saw Melody standing at the bottom. Talking to –

  ‘Shit!’ Roz had instinctively turned and run back the way she came before her brain had fully processed what she’d seen. What the hell was he doing here? Her heart was pounding. If Jamie was asking for her, surely Melody would have the sense to tell him it was her day off or something. But then how would Melody know who it was? Roz had told her the story but she didn’t think she’d used his name. And he wouldn’t mention – would he?

  Shaken, Roz stopped just around the corner and peeped back. They were still talking. Roz breathed deeply and tried to be rational. Him being here was probably nothing to do with her at all. He was probably just looking around in his lunch break and asking Melody some questions about the installations or what time the café closed …

  As she watched, Melody pointed up the stairs towards her and made a gesture to Jamie to follow. Roz shrank back and fled. Rushing past the exhibition she was supposed to be supervising, she pressed her pass feverishly against the door to the staff offices and threw herself into the room, perching herself on the edge of a chair to stare at the bank of CCTV screens. Paula from marketing was typing at a desk opposite. She looked up curiously. ‘Problem?’

  ‘No, no, just on my break.’

  Roz looked at the screen. She could see the camera-jerky figure of Melody coming up the corridor, and into the gallery with Jamie in tow. She was looking around. Clearly wondering why Roz wasn’t at her post. She and Jamie walked to the far side and looked into the adjoining gallery space. Now they were coming back and had stopped near the entrance. He was giving Melody something …

  Roz swung round as her boss Vivienne opened the door looking irritated. ‘What are you doing skulking in here? You haven’t left the bathtub?’

  ‘No – Melody’s there.’ Roz turned back and pointed at the screen where her friend was just lowering herself into the chair Roz had vacated. ‘I am on my break.’

  Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know we don’t leave anywhere unattended. Ever.’ Vivien fixed her with a steely gaze and stalked out again.

  Roz turned back to the screens, breathing heavily. There was no sign of Jamie. Roz scanned the other viewpoints. She couldn’t make him out anywhere else but there was a crowd downstairs now, gathered around the huge plaster sculpture of a polar bear that was gracing the foyer, and it was difficult to see exactly who was among it. She’d go quickly to the staff loo and then go back and quiz Melody. What could they have been talking about all that time?

  She came back into the office a few minutes later and searched the screens again. A tall figure that could have been Jamie had his back to the bear. Roz came cautiously out onto the top corridor and peered into each room. Melody was turned away from her by the bathtub, talking to some students. Holly’s gallery only had a couple of women in it. She tentatively checked the West Gallery. He definitely wasn’t upstairs.

  ‘What’s he called?’ A young man with long hair and a bandana stopped next to her as she stood near the Clore Learning Studio, deep breathing and gazing through the huge expanse of glass and out to sea.

  ‘Sorry?’

  She followed the man’s pointed finger to where the cast iron figure by Antony Gormley rose from the grey rippling water.

  ‘Oh, um, Another Time. It’s one of a series of a hundred pieces,’ she went on robotically, as the young man appeared to be waiting for more. ‘That are installed all over the world.’

  ‘Yes, but what’s that one called?’ he persisted.

  ‘I don’t think it has an individual name,’ Roz said distractedly. Melody had told the last person who’d asked, the figure was called Charlie. ‘Could you excuse me,’ she said apologetically. ‘I’m actually on my break …’

  Vivienne, who had chosen that very moment to stride past, stopped and glared. ‘What is it you’d like to know, sir?’ she asked, with a professional beam. Roz slunk away, heart sinking. She’d be offered even fewer extra shifts now.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Melody looked pleased to see her. ‘You’ll never guess who was here a minute ago …’

  Roz listened horror-struck as Melody regaled her. ‘I clocked who it was straightaway, when he said he’d met you recently at a house he was looking at and your friend Charlotte had told him you worked here!’ Melody gave a peal of laughter. ‘So I said, yes, you’d told me all about it, and I was in the same game so I’d been able to just picture the scene!’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, Melody!’ Roz put her head in her hands. ‘What did you do that for? He thought I was rehearsing for a play.’

  Melody looked scornful. ‘Of course he didn’t! Anyway, he was really nice and charming and he said he needs to see you again.’

  ‘Well I don’t want to see him.’

  ‘Why not? From the way he was reacting I reckon he’s into a bit of S&M himself … you can always tell. Wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t want to become a client for real. And it’s always a bonus if you get a good-looking one …’

  Roz clutched at her middle, feeling sick. Now what she’d been doing had been confirmed for him, suppose he told Charlotte?

  Melody was still talking. ‘So I brought him up here to find you but you’d disappeared. He was going to wait but then his phone rang and he said he had to go and he dashed off. But he’d already given me this.’

  Melody handed Roz a business card. ‘Wants you to give him a ring.’

  ‘I won’t be doing that.’

  Melody looked hopeful. ‘I don’t mind taking him on if you don’t want to?’

  Roz had no intention of letting Melody have any more contact with Jamie. She pushed the card into her pocket and then had a horrible thought. ‘You didn’t give him my number, did you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ But there was something about the way Melody’s eyes flicked away from her as she said it, that made Roz doubt her.

  ‘I do hope you didn’t,’ she said sharply, resolving to add Jamie’s number to her contacts so she would know if he was ringing and could leave the phone unanswered. ‘I really wish you hadn’t discussed me at all!’

  Melody looked petulant. ‘It’s not a crime you know. I know you’re worried about Charlotte finding out but you can sort somewhere else to work if she finds it a problem. It’s a job. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

  Roz felt suddenly exhausted. Her shoulders slumped as she shook her head, her voice grim. ‘That’s not how my daughter would see it.’

  Amy had been surprisingly amenable when Roz got home, chatting about her art lesson and the trials of sitting behind younger boys on the bus. She’d even made Roz a cup of tea while her mother was unpacking the shopping.

  Roz pushed the M&S lasagne – grabbed hastily from the garage outlet at Westbrook before she made her way home – into the oven and looked across at her daughter sitting at the tiny kitchen table, ostensibly doing Geography homework but mostly, as far as Roz could see, liking things on Facebook.

  She thought about the business card she’d removed from her pocket and now stuffed in her handbag – not quite sure what to do with it – aware that the double-barrelled surname rang a bell. She knew it was a risk to bring it up in conversation but she was sure Amy had mentioned that name once before.

  Roz tipped salad leaves into
a bowl and began to slice tomatoes, keeping her voice casual. ‘Is there a girl at school called something Lees-Parker?’

  ‘Yeah, Lucinda.’ Amy did not look up from her phone. ‘I told you about her before. She’s got a horse and a swimming pool – one of those!’

  Roz smiled. ‘You’re not close then?’

  ‘She’s all right. Bit up herself at times. I don’t see her much – she’s in different groups. Why do you want to know?’

  ‘Oh, Charlotte knows her Dad,’ said Roz, as if it were of no importance. ‘She just mentioned he had a daughter at school with you and I thought I had maybe heard the name, that’s all.’

  She breathed out, relieved, and picked up an onion.

  ‘Funnily enough,’ said Amy, still tapping on her screen. ‘We were talking yesterday.’

  Roz felt a pang of anxiety shoot through her middle and looked at her daughter sharply – was there something in Amy’s tone?

  ‘Really?’ Roz heard a faint squeak to her voice and hoped Amy hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Well, she was talking to Chloe more than me …’

  There was a silence while Amy did a bit more tapping. ‘They were moaning about their dads.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Chloe’s dad has moved in with this awful woman who actually used to be friends with her mum – so she’s really unimpressed with that one.’

  Roz waited, not wanting to ask. ‘I can imagine,’ she said eventually, when Amy did not appear to be planning on saying any more.

  ‘And Lucinda said her dad brought loads of girlfriends home, and she didn’t care most of the time cos she doesn’t live with him, but when she is there, she gets fed up with it. Says it’s a drain having to watch them pretend to like her and want to be her friend when they clearly don’t give a fuck–’

  ‘Amy!’

  ‘–about her really, but just want to make themselves look like great step-mother material so they can get their hands on his money.’

  ‘So he’s well-off?’

  ‘Loaded,’ said Amy dismissively. ‘I just told you!’ She yawned. ‘Anyway, they said I was lucky that you didn’t see anyone and I said I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to go dating.’ Amy raised her head and looked candidly at Roz. ‘As long as you don’t bring them home!’