by Jill Mansell
“OW!” She let out a shriek as without warning something heavy landed on her shoulder. The condom packet flew out of her grasp and Ginny spun round in alarm. Bloody Myrtle, what a fright. Disentangling Myrtle’s claws from her white Lycra top, she plonked the cat down and bent to retrieve the dropped condom.
Bugger, what were the odds? Ginny gazed in dismay at the packet, clearly visible but unreachable, in a deep gap between polished oak floorboards. You could fling five hundred condoms up in the air and not one of them would fall into one of the gaps between floorboards. And she couldn’t leave it there; that would be just too bizarre.
OK, think, think. Stuffing the rest of the condoms into her bra, Ginny raced into the kitchen and yanked open the cutlery drawer. A knife? A fork? Grabbing one of each, she returned to the living room and fell to her knees in front of the window. The floorboards smelled gorgeous, of honey and beeswax, but that wasn’t what she was here for now. The knife was useless, the fork no better. Damn, why did these packets have to be so slippy? It was like trying to hook out a strand of overcooked spaghetti, and the more often it slid back down into the gap, the more her hands shook and the sweatier her palms became. OK, deep calming breaths and try again, and this time—
“Ginny, what are you doing?”
Chapter 55
Ginny froze, knife and fork in hand. Slowly, very slowly, she looked over her shoulder. Finn had a point; what was she doing?
“Eating woodlice for lunch?” Finn suggested.
“Um… um…” It was no good; he was crossing the room now.
Finn paused with his hands on his hips, gazing down. Reaching out and taking the fork from Ginny’s grasp, he bent and deftly hooked out the condom packet in one go.
Typical.
“Right. Thanks.” Ginny snatched it up and said, “Sorry about that! It just… well, Myrtle ambushed me and I jumped a mile… it just flew out of my pocket, and of course I couldn’t leave it there…”
Finn frowned. “It flew out of your pocket?”
“Yes!”
“Your jeans pocket?”
Bugger, nothing else she was wearing had pockets. As she cast about in desperation, Finn raised a hand signaling that he’d be back in a moment. Returning from the master bedroom an uncomfortable thirty seconds later, he said, “How strange, I could have sworn I had a box of condoms in my bedside drawer. But the box is empty. They’ve all gone.”
Ginny’s mouth was as dry as sand. OK, here was her chance to come clean, to explain everything, to tell Finn that she was pregnant…
“What’s that noise?” Finn was listening intently.
Superaware of the rapid rise and fall of her rib cage, Ginny said, “My breathing.”
“That crackly sound.”
“I can’t hear it.” She tried to stop breathing completely.
“Kind of plasticky and crackly.” Finn’s gaze was now fixed on her chest. “One side of you has gone a funny shape.”
Ginny looked down. Her right breast was smooth and normal. The left one resembled a Christmas stocking. It looked as if… well, almost as if she’d stuffed a handful of wrapped condoms into her bra. Slowly she reached into the V-neck of the thin Lycra top, scooped out the offending packets, and handed them over. “I’m sorry.”
Finn gave her an odd look; frankly she couldn’t blame him. “I don’t get it. Can’t you just go to a shop and buy your own? Or ask Gavin to do it?”
Definitely, definitely time to tell him now. Flustered and searching for a way to begin, Ginny said, “Look, I can explain, there’s a reason for… for…”
“Carry on,” Finn prompted when her voice trailed away.
But it was no good; from where she was standing by the window, Ginny had seen the car pull into the courtyard. She shook her head. “Tamsin’s back.”
He heaved a sigh, glanced down at the condoms in his hand.
“I’d better put these back in the drawer.”
Ginny braced herself; she’d endured this much humiliation, what harm could a bit more do? Clearing her throat as Finn turned away, she said, “Could I have one?”
He stopped. “Excuse me?”
You heard. “Could you just… lend me a condom? OK, not lend,” Ginny hurriedly amended as his eyebrows shot up. “But I’ll pay you back.”
“Sure one’s enough?” There was a definite sarcastic edge to his voice.
What the hell. “Better make it two.” Oh God, what kind of a conversation was this to be having with the father of your unborn child?
Without another word Finn dropped two condoms into her outstretched hand before heading through to the bedroom. He reemerged as Tamsin ran up the stairs. Having jammed the two condoms into her jeans pocket—so snug that nothing short of a nuclear explosion would dislodge them—Ginny said hastily, “Hi, you’ve had your hair done! It looks great!”
“I know.” Tamsin smugly shook back her glossy-as-a-mirror, chestnut-brown locks. “What are you doing here?”
Well, I was about to tell Finn that I’m having his baby.
Which would probably have captured Tamsin’s attention, but Ginny couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. “I brought some salmon trimmings up for Myrtle.”
Not that grumpy, lethal-clawed Myrtle deserved them.
“What, those?” Tamsin eyed the still unopened, foil-wrapped parcel on the window ledge.
“And I needed to discuss next week’s shifts with Finn.”
“Thrilling.” Losing interest, Tamsin waved her armful of glossy shopping bags at Finn. “Darling, wait until you see what I’ve bought. I’ve had such a lovely time! Where’s Mae?”
“Martha’s taken her out in the stroller for a couple of hours. We’ve been pretty busy today.”
If Finn meant to make Tamsin feel guilty, it whizzed over her head.
“Great, maybe she’d like to babysit this weekend. My friend Zoe’s invited me up to stay for a couple of days.” Her hair swinging some more, Tamsin dumped the bags on the floor and began rummaging through them. “And I got you a fab shirt… hang on, it’s in here somewhere.”
Ginny made her excuses and left before Tamsin could find the fab shirt and make Finn try it on.
***
“About bloody time too.” Carla was out of her house a nanosecond after Ginny arrived home.
In the sunny kitchen each of them held a wrapped condom up to the window.
“Three holes,” Carla pronounced.
“Four in this one.” The needle marks were practically invisible to the naked eye, but you could just feel them if you ran your fingertips over the plasticized foil. And concentrated hard. No wonder Finn hadn’t noticed.
“So that’s it. Now you know.”
“Tamsin got me pregnant.” Ginny pulled a face. “Sounds like the kind of headline you’d read in the News of the World, all about turkey basters and lesbians.”
“Anyway,” said Carla, like a saleswoman going in for the kill, “you haven’t heard the other thing yet. She’s going up to London this weekend.”
“I know. To see her friend Zoe. I was there when she told Finn.”
“Hmm. I was there when she arranged it.” A knowing smile played around Carla’s perfectly lipsticked mouth. “And I’m telling you now. If that was a girl she was speaking to on the phone, I’m a banana.”
***
It was another hectic night in the restaurant. Ginny hadn’t meant to say it this evening, but she was being sorely provoked. Finn had spent the last two hours being decidedly offhand and shooting her filthy looks from a distance. It was both disconcerting and hurtful. When her pen ran out and she went through to the office to pick up another, he stopped her in the corridor on her way back.
“Sorry, we don’t keep extra supplies of condoms in this office.” If his mood had been better, it could have sounded lighthearted, even playful. But it wasn’t, so it didn’t.
“My pen ran out.” Ginny held up the new one. “The old one’s in the bin if you want to check. And I’ve alrea
dy said sorry about earlier.” Deep breath. “Look, I still need to talk to you about the… um, condoms.”
Finn’s jaw was set. “No need. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re making a massive mistake.”
“Am I?” Whatever he meant, it was clearly unflattering. Fury bubbled up and Ginny blurted out, “Well, maybe I’m not the only one. Because I’d double-check who Tamsin’s seeing this weekend if I were you.”
Yeek, she’d said it. Well, Finn should know.
He stood there, motionless. “What?”
“You heard.” Ginny instantly wished she’d kept her mouth shut. What was that expression, shoot the messenger? Finn was certainly looking as if he’d like to shoot her.
“What makes you say that?”
“Don’t ask me. Ask Tamsin.”
Without another word Finn turned and left. God, what a mess; what an absolute balls-up. Shaking, Ginny realized that now he would accuse Tamsin of seeing someone else. Tamsin, in turn, would deny it and heatedly demand to know who was spreading these lies. And then what? Without any concrete evidence, it was Tamsin’s word against hers…
It was too horrible a prospect to even contemplate. There was only one thing to do. Ginny braced herself, clutched her new pen, and went back to work.
Waitressing was showbiz; you had to smile smile smile.
Chapter 56
Tamsin had just had a bath and was wrapped in a turquoise robe, painting her toenails shell pink. When Finn entered the living room she looked up and smiled. “Hi, darling. Mae’s asleep. What are you doing back so early?”
She was beautiful. Any man would lust after Tamsin. If what Ginny had said was true, it would be the best news he’d heard in months.
“I’ve been working too hard. Time for a break,” said Finn. “We’re going up to London together this weekend. I’ve booked us into a suite at the Soho.”
For a second there was silence.
“Oh, Finn, I’d have loved that.” Tamsin was filled with regret. “But I can’t. I promised Zoe I’d stay with her. The thing is—and this is top secret—she’s just had a facelift and looks a complete fright. I’m just going along to cheer her up and take her mind off the fact that she looks like Frankenstein’s ugly sister.”
“Right.” Finn held her gaze, the confident unwavering gaze of a woman who could lie about the paternity of her child and not let it trouble her.
“But some other time,” Tamsin beamed up at him. “Definitely. In fact, how about next weekend? Then we can—what are you doing?”
“Borrowing your phone. That’s all right, isn’t it?” Finn scooped up the tiny mobile that Tamsin never let out of her sight and began deftly scrolling through the list of names. “Ah, here we go…”
“That’s my phone!” Tamsin leaped up in a panic as he held it to his ear. “Look, you can’t just—”
“Zoe? Hi, this is Finn Penhaligon. How are you? Now listen, this is just a preliminary call, but I’m ringing Tamsin’s friends to see who might be able to make it along to a surprise party for her at the Connaught this Saturday evening.” He paused, listened, then said, “Well, that’s great news,” before handing the mobile over to Tamsin. “Here, you can speak to her now. Zoe’s thrilled. She says she’d love to come.”
***
Ginny jumped a mile and almost dropped the sticky toffee desserts she was carrying through from the kitchen when Tamsin burst into the restaurant. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and had a face like thunder as she stood in the center of the noisy, crowded room beadily eyeing each table in turn. Evie, raising her eyebrows at Ginny, approached Tamsin and said, “Are you looking for someone?”
“I’m seeing who’s here.” The words came rattling out like marbles. “Finn wouldn’t tell me, but it has to be someone in this restaurant.” Tamsin continued to scan the diners before turning to blurt out, “You won’t believe what they’ve just done to me, some petty, spiteful… jealous…” Her voice trailed away as her gaze came to rest on Ginny. Slowly, incredulously, Tamsin drawled, “Or maybe you would believe it. Look at your face! Fucking hell, what is going on here? You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you? Who told Finn?”
Ginny stared back. OK, this was now officially a nightmare. Licking dry lips, she said, “I did.”
“You! How? My God, I might have guessed. You interfering bitch.” Tamsin’s voice rose and her features narrowed. “Let me guess, you were jealous because I had Finn and you don’t have a man of your own. You can’t bear to see other people happy so you have to stir up trouble by poisoning their minds!”
Close, thought Ginny. I’m jealous because you have Finn and you don’t deserve him. You’re cheating on him, which is something I’d never do. God, look at everyone watching us.
Levelly she said, “I didn’t lie.”
“You’ve probably got a crush on him.” Tamsin’s upper lip curled, revealing catlike incisors. “Is that what this is about? Is that why you were upstairs in the flat this afternoon, hoping he’d take some notice of you?”
“Right, that’s enough.” Evie ushered Tamsin toward the door. “You’re upset; let me take you back to—”
“No!” bellowed Tamsin, wrenching free. She grabbed a carafe of white wine from the nearest table, spun around, and hurled the contents straight at Ginny. “You bitch, you’ve ruined my life!”
Everyone in the restaurant gasped. For the second time in three minutes Ginny almost dropped the sticky toffee desserts. Then, blinking wine out of her eyes, she saw that they’d been caught in the onslaught too, which meant they couldn’t be served to paying customers. Oh well, waste not, want not…
“Aaarrrgh!” Tamsin, who clearly hadn’t been expecting a mere waitress to retaliate, let out a shriek and leaped back. She gazed in disbelief at the brown sludgy gunk sliding down the front of her white T-shirt and jeans.
“It’s not your day, is it?” said Ginny. “First your life is ruined, now your outfit.”
Incandescent but unable to escape Evie’s iron grip, Tamsin stamped her feet and let out another ear-splitting howl of rage. At various tables people began to whisper and giggle.
The husband of the couple who had ordered the sticky toffee desserts looked at Ginny and said tentatively, “Were those ours?”
Ginny’s knees were trembling, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “I’m so sorry. And there aren’t any more left. But I can really recommend the chocolate torte.”
***
By some miracle she managed to drive home without ending up in a ditch. It was only nine o’clock, which had Carla running across the road shouting, “Oh my God, what happened?”
Ginny was incapable of sitting down. Revved up and hyperventilating, she paced around the kitchen. Finally she finished relaying the showdown in the restaurant and shook her head. “That’s it, I’ve lost my job. I’m going to move to Scarborough.”
“Sit down. Calm down. So he still doesn’t know you’re pregnant.” Banging kitchen cupboard doors open and shut, Carla said, “Bloody hell, I’m trying to get you something to drink here and all I can find is hot chocolate.” She took down the tin and gave it a shake. “Have you even been to Scarborough?”
“We went there on holiday once when Jem was a baby. It has a nice spa thingy. And it’s a long way from here.” Ginny’s stomach lurched as the phone burst into life. Oh God, this couldn’t be good for the baby.
“Don’t answer it if you don’t want to,” said Carla.
But caller ID showed that it was Jem.
“Yay, Mum, you’re there! You’ll never guess what!”
Even when she was having a crisis, hearing Jem’s voice cheered her up. Glad of the distraction, Ginny said, “What won’t I guess?”
“Marcus McBride’s got a beach house in Miami. He’s just emailed Davy and said if we want a vacation in July, we’re welcome to use it. And it’s, like, the coolest house on the planet!”
“Gosh.” Ginny wondered how much the plane tickets would cost.
<
br /> “And he’s taking care of the flights,” Jem went on excitedly. “Isn’t that amazing? We won’t get to see him—he’s going to be away filming in Australia while we’re there—but when Davy said there’d be three of us, he was fine. He even said the more the merrier and why didn’t Davy’s mum go along too?”
“And is she?”
“No! Rhona said it was our trip and she’d stay at home. Which is serious progress, because she and Davy have never been apart before. That’s OK with you then, is it? If I go to Miami in July?”
“Of course it is, sweetheart.” Ginny’s throat swelled; she and Jem had both had flings with unsuitable men. And to think she’d worried about Jem being the one ending up pregnant.
“I’d better get off now. Everyone’s going to be so jealous when they hear about it! So, everything all right with you, Mum?”
“Yes, yes, fine. Carla’s here. She’s just pouring me a drink.”
“Let me guess, a huge glass of ice-cold Frascati!”
Ginny looked over at Carla, frustratedly trying to stir lumps of cocoa powder into microwaved hot milk, and said, “How did you guess?”
“That’s someone else you’re going to have to tell before the baby actually pops out.” Carla was nothing if not full of useful advice.
“I know. Don’t nag.” Ginny put down the mug of hot chocolate which was vile and lumpy.
“It feels like we’re waiting for the world to end. You’d think somebody would have phoned by now, even if it’s just to tell you you’re sacked.”