Between The Sheets

by Caddle, Colette

  Her eyes narrowed. 'What do you see?'

  'Well, there's obviously a breakdown in communication.'

  'Oh, please! I'm too pissed for anything heavy.'

  'So he's right, you don't talk.' He grinned innocently.

  She drained her glass and stood up, slightly unsteadily. 'I've had enough psychoanalysis, thank you. I'm going home to bed.'

  He stood up and folded her wrap around her shoulders. 'What a good idea.'

  She raised an eyebrow. 'I suppose you want me to invite you back for coffee?'

  He shook his head solemnly. 'No, but I wouldn't say no to a night of unbridled passion.'

  Dana gazed up at him. 'Let's go, then.'

  The next morning when she woke, she felt as if there was a freight train going through her brain. Cocktails and champagne were a lethal combination. Then, of course, there was the brandy— Oh shit! She opened one eye. Sure enough, there he was, lying beside her. Lying where Gus should be. 'Oh, God,' she groaned. Moving as gingerly as she could, Dana slipped out of the bed and made a rim for the bathroom. Inside, she pulled on a bathrobe and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked very slightly green; her eye make-up was halfway down her face and her mouth — swollen from fairly intensive kissing — hung open in shock. She swallowed hard as a wave of nausea engulfed her. She wasn't sure if that was down to the drink or the realization of what she had done. She had, for the first time ever, been unfaithful to Gus. Not that it really counted. Gus was gone. She didn't owe him any kind of loyalty. Strangely, that didn't make her feel any better. She sank down on to the edge of the bath and wondered how the hell she was going to get that man — Ryan? — out of her bed and out of the house before Iris or Sylvie arrived. 'Fuck,' she muttered, hearing the unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing. Going to the sink she quickly washed her face, combed her hair and tightened the belt of her robe, then took a deep breath and went back into the bedroom.

  Ryan sat up and stretched, exposing a tanned, smooth chest. He smiled lazily. 'Good morning.'

  'You've got to get out of here now,' she said urgently, gathering up his clothes and tossing them at him.

  'I thought you were separated,' he replied, throwing back the duvet.

  Dana averted her eyes. 'I am, but my housekeeper is downstairs and I don't want her to see you.'

  He grinned as there was a gentle tap on the door. 'I think it's a bit late for that.'

  'Just a minute, Iris,' Dana called. 'Get into the bathroom and stay there until I call you,' she hissed frantically.

  'Oh, come on!'

  'Bathroom — please?'

  Shaking his head he sauntered across the room, his clothes over his arm.

  Dana waited until he'd closed the bathroom door before opening the bedroom door a couple of inches. 'Sorry, Iris, I was in the bathroom.'

  'I'm sorry to interrupt you.' Iris's eyes twinkled excitedly. 'It's just that I thought you'd want to know, Mr Johnson is outside.'

  'Gus!' Dana gasped.

  Iris nodded, smiling. 'He's sitting in his car talking on his phone, so I'm sure he'll be in any minute.'

  'Oh, God, you can't let him in.'

  Iris frowned. 'But—'

  'No, of course, you must let him in.' Dana thought quickly. 'Just tell him I'm in a meeting and he'll have to wait.'

  Iris nodded. 'I'll show him into the front sitting room.'

  'No!' Dana smiled weakly. 'Why don't you take him into the kitchen and make him some breakfast? He'd love that.'

  Iris beamed. 'Very well. And don't you worry; I'll keep him talking while you—'

  'What?' Dana snapped.

  Iris frowned in confusion. 'Get dressed?'

  'Ah, yes, great, thank you. I'll do that.'

  Dana hurriedly closed the door and crossed to the bathroom. 'You can come out now,' she whispered.

  Ryan emerged grinning and thankfully fully dressed. 'I feel like a teenager again.'

  'I'm so sorry but—'

  He held up a hand. 'No need for explanations, I need to head off anyway. I have a meeting and I need to go home first and change.'

  'But you can't.' She blocked his way.

  'I'm sorry?'

  She sighed. 'My husband's here, and I really don't want him to see you.'

  He frowned. 'I thought you were separated.'

  'We are,' she assured him. 'I haven't set eyes on him since the day he walked out. I have no idea why he's here now. But if he saw you here it would really complicate things.'

  'You've got the moral high ground and you want to keep it that way?'

  'Something like that,' she admitted.

  He glanced impatiently at his watch. 'I appreciate your position but I really have to go.'

  She thought for a moment. 'Okay, just let me get dressed.'

  With a sigh of resignation, Ryan nodded and walked to the window.

  Dana grabbed trousers and a shirt and fled to the bathroom. She'd sneak him down to her office, she decided, and then very loudly escort him to the door as if they had been in there all along. Of course, the fact that he was wearing a casual jacket over chinos and didn't have a briefcase was a problem. Still, she could give him a couple of files to carry, and that would have to do. Anyway, what business was it of

  Gus's who he was or why he was here? After over a month of silence he didn't deserve any explanations.

  She dressed quickly, closing all the buttons of her white shirt. She left it loose over the trousers and quickly dabbed some concealer under her eyes and applied gloss to her lips.

  'Very proper,' Ryan teased as she hurried out and slipped her feet into a pair of white pumps.

  'Okay, here's the plan. I'll take you down to my office and then I'll walk you to the door—'

  'At which stage you'd like me to talk loudly and call you Ms De Lacey.'

  'Exactly!' Her smile faltered. 'You know who I am.'

  'It clicked when you brought me back to this place,' he admitted.

  She frowned; still, what difference did it make now? 'Wait here,' she said and crept out on to the landing. All was quiet so she hurried back to Ryan. 'Okay, let's go but, please, be as quiet as you can.'

  Dana led the way down the stairs, checked the kitchen door was still closed then quickly led Ryan the opposite way towards her office. At the door she turned and smiled at him. 'Let me just get you a file to carry. Sorry,' she added, seeing the flash of irritation cross his face. 'I'm really sorry about this, and very embarrassed.'

  He sighed. 'Forget it, just get me the damn file and let's get this over with.'

  As Dana turned away from him there was the sound of a flush from across the hall and the door of the loo opened. 'Gus!'

  Her husband stood there, his eyes going from her to the man at her side. 'Hello, Dana. Sorry, I seem to have got you at a bad time.'

  'No! No, it's okay. We just finished our meeting, isn't that right?' She flashed a desperate smile at Ryan.

  He nodded lazily, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. 'That's right.'

  'Why don't you go and have a cup of tea, Gus, while I show Ry— Mr Ryan out?'

  Dana held her breath as Gus looked from Ryan back to her. 'No, I'll go.'

  'But why did you come?' she blurted out, as he turned to leave.

  He looked back at her, and shook his head slightly. 'I really don't know.'

  'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' Dana muttered, tears coursing down her cheeks as she stood alone in the doorway. Gus had left abruptly with a screech of brakes and Ryan had made his escape shortly after, mumbling something about picking up a taxi on the main road. Dana hardly even heard him. She felt sick to her stomach and it had nothing to do with alcohol. Gus had come back and she had blown it.

  Closing the door she went in search of Iris.

  Dana found the housekeeper setting the table with the best cutlery and crockery.

  'Breakfast is almost ready and the kettle is on/ she said with a smile.

  'I'm sorry you've gone to so much trouble, Iris, but I
'm afraid he's gone.'

  'Gone?' Iris looked at her, confused.

  Dana nodded. 'Did he say anything, Iris? How did he seem to you?'

  'Well, I couldn't really say—'

  'Please, think — it's important,' Dana begged.

  'Well, I told him you were in a meeting, like you asked me to. I asked him would he like some breakfast while he waited. He said yes, that he hadn't had a decent cooked breakfast since he'd left.' She paused, allowing herself a small, proud smile.

  'Go on,' Dana urged.

  Iris thought. 'Well, he asked me how I'd been, how my rheumatism was and how Jules was ...'

  'Jules?'

  'My cat,' Iris explained. 'He got caught in some barbed wire the week before Mr Johnson left.'

  'Did he?' Dana said faintly. She hadn't even known Iris had a cat. How come Gus knew?

  'And then he said he'd have a look around the garden while I was cooking.'

  Dana froze. 'He went outside?'

  'Well, yes. That's okay, isn't it?' Iris said, a tad defensively.

  Dana thought of Ryan standing in the window of her bedroom while she went to get dressed. 'And then?' she whispered.

  Iris shrugged. 'He came back in quite quickly, excused himself to go to the bathroom, and that was the last I saw of him.'

  'Shit.'

  Iris's mouth tightened with disapproval but she said nothing. Dana turned to leave. 'What about this breakfast, Dana? Won't you, at least, have some?'

  'No, I'm sorry, Iris,' Dana said dully. 'I don't feel very well.'

  Chapter Eleven

  Gus was livid, and more than a little shocked as he drove away. How could she? How the fuck could she? And in their bed too.

  The sound of Prince's 'Kiss' began to play loudly, interrupting his furious thoughts. He looked blankly at the silent radio. Then he realized the music was coming from under the passenger seat. Pulling into the kerb, he reached down and fumbled about until his hand closed around a mobile phone. 'What the hell?' he muttered as it continued to ring in his hand. After a moment's hesitation he answered it. 'Hello?'

  'Is that Gus Johnson?'

  'Yes, who is this?'

  'It's Terry Andrews and you're holding my phone.'

  'I am?'

  'Sorry, it must have fallen out of my pocket last night.'

  'Oh, right,' he said vaguely. He was still seeing Dana's guilty face, and the smug grin of that bastard she was with.

  'Could I drop by your office and pick it up?' Terry was saying.

  'No,' he said shortly.

  'Look, I'm very sorry to inconvenience an important and busy man such as yourself,' she said angrily, 'but I need my phone.'

  'Fine. But I'm not in the office.'

  'Oh. Sorry.'

  'Where are you now?'

  'Er, sitting in a cafe on Baggot Street.'

  'Right, if you tell me which one, I'll be with you in ten minutes.'

  As he drove, Gus forced himself to calm down. He tried to persuade himself that Dana really had been having an early morning meeting, but he knew it wasn't true. He'd seen that bastard standing at their bedroom window; Dana had been casually dressed — she never dressed down for meetings. As for this Ryan character, he didn't have a car, never mind a briefcase.

  Gus banged his fist down on the steering wheel and cursed loudly. They'd spent the night together; it was obvious! How could she do it to him? He sighed and closed his eyes briefly as the traffic slowed to a stop. But then, why shouldn't she? He'd been pictured in the papers with his arm around a strange woman. He'd made no effort to get in touch with her or explain why he'd left. 'Stupid pillock,' he muttered as the traffic started to move again.

  She had looked lovely too. He always loved it when she abandoned the cool, sophisticated, successful-woman look in favour of the softer one. He adored seeing her engrossed in her work, a pencil through a knot in her hair, her brow knitted in concentration as she padded absently around the house and garden between frantic sessions on her laptop.

  God, he missed her.

  When he got to the cafe, Terry was sitting at a table in the window, biting on a pen and frowning at a pad on the table in front of her. He was stunned at how much she resembled Dana when she was engrossed in her work. He pushed his wife out of his mind and strode over to the table, a polite smile in place. 'Sorry I took so long, the traffic's crap.'

  She looked up and nodded politely. 'No problem.'

  Gus handed over her phone. 'You're very popular, it's rung three times since I talked to you.'

  'Sorry.'

  He sighed. 'It was an observation not a complaint.'

  'Sorry,' she said again and then grinned. 'We seem to say that a lot to each other. Can I buy you a coffee to make up for the hassle of delivering this?'

  He sank into the seat opposite. 'It was no hassle, but yeah, I could murder a black coffee.'

  She went to the counter and returned moments later with two large mugs of black coffee.

  'I thought all you girls drank skinny lattes and mochas and all those other fake drinks.'

  'That's very sexist,' she told him. 'No, I need at least three of these in the morning to get me started.'

  Gus stared into his cup. 'I think I need something a lot stronger to get me started today.' 'Oh?'

  He looked up into her curious face and remembered it was a journalist he was talking to. 'Don't mind me, I just got out of the wrong side of the bed. So, tell me, did you get your job back?'

  'Yeah.'

  'And what have you got lined up for today? Planning any interviews, or are you just going to sit at your desk and make it all up?'

  'That's not fair,' Terry protested, colour flooding her cheeks.

  He raised an eyebrow. 'Isn't it?'

  'I already told you I had nothing to do with those photos being published. You said you believed me.'

  'And I do. But I still think that if you're serious about journalism you should look for a new job. How can you bear to have your name linked with a rag like that?'

  'I have to start somewhere and I also have to eat. Anyway, for all you know I might be rubbish. Have you ever even read anything I've written?'

  'Probably not,' he admitted with a grin. 'But you're a very good interviewer.'

  'Am I?'

  He noticed how her eyes lit up at the compliment. 'Yes. You're not too intrusive, you make friends with the interviewee without being too forward and, as a result, they open up to you.'

  'Thanks, that's a lovely thing to say.' She sighed. 'I wish my editor felt that way.'

  'Why, what's his problem?'

  'Her,' Terry corrected him. 'Basically she thinks I'm not pushy enough.'

  He held out his hands. 'I told you it was a rag.'

  Terry pushed her cup aside, shoved her notebook into her bag and stood up. 'Yeah, well, thanks a bunch for the career advice, but I've got to go.'

  He put a hand on her arm. 'Hey, don't be like that. I'm not having a go at you. I just hate what you do.'

  Terry sighed dramatically. 'Yeah, well, I suppose I'm just going to have to live with that.'

  He laughed. 'That puts me in my place. Please, sit down,' he added quickly, knowing he shouldn't. 'You haven't even finished your second coffee, never mind had your third.'

  Her expression softened. 'If I do, will you quit having a go at me?'

  Gus nodded solemnly. 'I promise.' She sat back down and he smiled. He should dislike this girl. He certainly shouldn't trust her. But there was something about her that he admired. She was a tough nut and, despite the nature of her work, he suspected she was basically honest. With those mischievous eyes and the ash-blonde hair that hung in soft waves around her shoulders, she was also very pretty.

  'But I can't stay long,' Terry said, taking a sip of coffee. 'I have to interview a woman whose cat has psychic powers.'

  He opened his mouth to comment and then thought better of it.

  'I know it's pathetic but someone's got to do it,' she said glumly.

&nb
sp; 'Then do it to the best of your ability, no matter how dumb the subject. That's what will get you noticed. Oops, sorry, I promised no more advice.'

  'No, that kind of advice is acceptable.' She smiled.

  'So maybe we could meet again and you could benefit some more from my words of wisdom,' Gus said recklessly.

  Terry stared. 'Are you asking me out, Mr Johnson?'

  He saw the glint of humour in her eyes and the full, pink lips that were completely bare of make-up. 'I suppose I am. Does that horrify you?'

  She shook her head slowly. 'No, but I am a bit surprised. Aren't you afraid I'll say yes just to pump you for information about your private life?'

  Gus shrugged. 'Strangely, no. Why? Is that the kind of thing you would do?'

  She held his gaze. 'No. No, it isn't.'

  'So?'

  She nodded. 'Okay, then, on one condition.'

  He let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding. 'I should have known there'd be a condition.'

  'I pick the venue.'

  'Fair enough,' he murmured, wondering what he was letting himself in for.

  'Can you meet me tomorrow at seven-thirty at the Grand Canal Dock train station?'

  Gus frowned as he pulled out his Notepad and checked. 'Yes, I'm free that evening. But there's no need to take the train; I can pick you up.'

  'No, that's fine, we won't need transport.'

  He looked at her curiously. 'I don't know of any restaurants down there.'

  She grinned. 'Who said we were going to a restaurant?'

  As he walked back to his car Gus couldn't stop smiling at how his mood had lightened. Less than two hours ago he'd been devastated at his wife's infidelity; now he was grinning like an idiot because he had a date with another woman. It was probably the whole rebound thing, he realized as he drove to the office. Terry was young, pretty and available, that's all it was. She was also a journalist, he reminded himself. The first sign of her showing too much interest in his private life and he'd drop her like a hot potato. But it was no big deal. It was only one date. It didn't have to go any further than that. He could stop it any time he liked. If there was one thing Gus was sure of, it was that he had no interest in any kind of permanent relationship. Not any more.

  'Where the hell have you been?' Tom marched into Gus's office seconds after Gus sat down.