Over You

by Lucy Diamond

  And there it came a third time, the scratching noise. It sounded as if it was right outside the house. She froze as she heard it – and then her eyes widened as she realized that it was the sound of a key in the door. Her door.

  Her heart bumped in alarm. Someone was trying to get in! Someone was on the other side of her front door, trying to pick her lock, just a few centimetres of wood and glass away from being in her house. Oh fuck. Shit! This was what she’d been dreading.

  She padded out of the bedroom, along the landing to the top of the stairs. The boys, got to protect the boys. A burglar could take everything else – whatever they wanted – as long as the boys were all right. But you heard such awful stories, didn’t you, about deranged crackheads completely out of control, hurting people for kicks, even little kids like her two …

  Oh God. This was the worst thing about being a single parent. The fearful locking up every evening, each time knowing that this could be the night when someone tried their luck, gave the door a kicking or smashed a window, forced their way in past the locks and bolts, sneaked through her house … It could happen, she knew damn well it could. It was a nice enough area, their estate, there weren’t dead-eyed feral kids roaming the streets, stuffing petrol bombs through letterboxes or stomping over car bonnets, but that didn’t mean her safety was guaranteed. Laura’s car had been pinched by joyriders a few weeks ago. Emma’s shed had been broken into over the summer. Why wouldn’t someone want to have a go at Josie’s house? Especially if they’d been watching it; they’d know she was on her own in there, just her and the children.

  Oh shit. SHIT.

  Her mind raced for a weapon she could use, something she could defend herself with, if need be. A hammer? Rolling-pin? Meat cleaver? Sod it, she’d do it, if anyone tried anything with the boys. She wouldn’t hesitate, she’d have a go at anyone to protect her sons. But if she could just get to the phone first, call the police, maybe she could avoid any of that …

  She started down the stairs. The letterbox was rattling, and she pressed herself against the wall, into the inky shadows, trying not to gasp as she saw a pair of eyes peering through. And then a voice.

  ‘Jose! Josie! Let us in, will you? It’s me.’

  She almost fell down the rest of the stairs. ‘Pete!’ she cried, feeling awash with relief at his voice. She strode across to the door and pulled it open, unable to stop herself berating him. ‘What the hell are you doing? I thought you were trying to break in. I was all set to call the police! I—’

  He held up a hand to head her off, and she could hear how shrill her voice was, how scared and accusatory.

  ‘I was just passing,’ he said. ‘And I wondered … can I come in?’

  There was something about the way he was enunciating his words so carefully and deliberately that roused Josie’s suspicions. She narrowed her eyes, leaned forward so as to get a better look at him. ‘Are you drunk?’ she asked, not moving an inch.

  ‘No!’ he exclaimed, sounding wounded. His breath stank. ‘Just been celebrating a bit, that’s all. Celebrating my freedom.’

  ‘Your what? Freedom? What do you mean?’ She leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded.

  He spread his palms upward, a fluid, definitely drunken movement. ‘It’s over,’ he said dramatically. ‘Sabine, I mean. It’s all over. And I’ve seen the light.’

  ‘What, you’ve found God?’ Josie asked sarcastically. Her heart was quickening all over again, though, at the thought that Pete and Sabine had split. Why? she couldn’t help wondering. What was wrong in Paradise all of a sudden?

  He laughed. ‘No, not God,’ he said. His expression was earnest under the glow of the hall light. He put a hand on his chest – was she really meant to take that seriously? – and took a deep breath. ‘I got it wrong, Jose. I made a mistake. And …’

  She stared at him. ‘And you’ve come round here, pissed, to tell me that? Well, thanks. Thanks a lot, Pete. But you’re going to have to do a bit better than that, I’m afraid.’ Of all the cheek! ‘Trying to let yourself in, too! God! You frightened the life out of me.’

  He shrugged. ‘Sorry,’ he said. He flashed her an aw-shucks smile. It felt nice though, the thought of letting myself in here. Just like I used to before … Well, you know.’ The smile looked strained suddenly, and his arms fell limp by his sides. ‘Go on, let us in, Jose,’ he said. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

  The wind battered the side of the house, as if proving a point. Josie thought quickly, trying to decide what was best to do. A quick chat and maybe a drink wouldn’t hurt, would it? And she was curious to hear what had happened with Sabine anyway – just so that she could gloat in private once he’d gone. She hesitated. The thing was, she was tired, and he was half-cut, and it would surely be better to have this conversation in the civilization of daylight rather than in the darkness of evening. Wouldn’t inviting him in now muddle all the boundaries that had been set?

  Pete was still smiling at her. ‘Go on, Jose,’ he said. ‘For old times’ sake, eh?’

  And, infuriatingly, she felt herself smile back, and roll her eyes at him. ‘What are you like?’ she said. ‘Come on, then. Come in.’

  ‘Cheers,’ he said, stepping into the hall. He stood there while she shut the door, waiting for her to lead him in. ‘Where are we going, then? Kitchen? Living room?’

  ‘Come in the kitchen while I get us a drink,’ she suggested, walking briskly past him. She felt tingly, strange, having him in the house again after dark. She was conscious of her body moving, with him walking behind her there, and went a bit faster, trying to shake the thought from her mind. It was disturbing. She didn’t want to dwell on it. She pushed open the kitchen door and snapped on the lights.

  ‘So, what do you want?’ she asked, turning to face him.

  He was blinking and sallow-faced under the unmerciful spotlights. ‘Well, as I said, I feel like I’ve made a mistake, and—’

  Now it was her turn to cut him off with a hand. ‘No, to drink,’ she said.

  He had the grace to laugh at his mistake. ‘Oh, right, I thought you meant—’

  ‘Coffee? Tea?’ Josie wasn’t sure why she was reining him in so much, interrupting every time he started getting personal, but she felt on edge. It was too close to what she’d dreamed about, perhaps, too near the knuckle. He was saying things that she’d longed to hear him say, but she almost couldn’t bear to hear them, because she knew he was just drunk and probably didn’t mean a word of it.

  Annette’s words rang in her ears. He let you down big-time, remember?

  Yeah. She did remember.

  ‘Glass of wine?’ Pete said hopefully. He took his jacket off and slung it around his old chair at the head of the table, then parked himself in it, eyes twinkling at her.

  She felt herself soften, just a fraction. She still missed him, after everything; that was the problem. She still cared.

  ‘Glass of wine it is then,’ she said, turning away so that he couldn’t see the flush of feeling creep through her cheeks. Keep your cool, she instructed herself. Play it cool. Don’t let him take control again, whatever you do.

  She pulled a bottle of white out of the fridge, one she’d started the night before, and was easing the cork out of the bottle’s neck when he got to his feet and came to stand next to her. ‘Josie,’ he said quietly.

  He was right in her space, too close. She could smell him – beer, aftershave, soap – and could hear her blood roaring in her ears. She stepped sideways, away from him, but he caught hold of her. ‘Josie,’ he said again, taking her hands. ‘Look at me a moment, will you?’

  She let go of the bottle and slowly swivelled her head to meet his gaze, feeling tense. She didn’t feel prepared for this, like an actress without a script. She didn’t know where it was going, what he was doing. But he was looking straight at her, those soulful brown eyes, as serious as the day she’d looked up at him in the church on their wedding day.

  Do you, Josie Catherine Bell, take this ma
n, Peter David Winter, to be your lawful wedded husband?

  ‘Josie, I want to come back,’ he said bluntly. One of his hands stole around her waist. ‘I must have been mad to have walked out the way I did. Mid-life crisis, I guess – but that’s over. I know now that it’s you I want. You and the boys. And if you’ll have me back, then …’

  She wrenched herself out of his hands, stepped away, her heart thumping. The walls seemed to be closing in around her, the strip lighting too bright overhead. ‘Don’t,’ she said, not able to look at him. ‘You’re only saying this because you’re pissed and feeling sorry for yourself.’ She bit her lip. ‘You can’t just come here and say all that, and think we can carry on like it never happened. Because—’

  ‘I know I let you down,’ he said, interrupting her smoothly. His eyes were on her face, his gaze steady. ‘And I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. I totally lost the plot for a while, but …’ He held his hands out to her, palms up. Look, no weapons. ‘I’ve come through that now. I’ve come out the other side. And I miss you, Josie.’ His eyes were liquid under the bright kitchen lights. ‘And maybe it’s taken me some Dutch courage to come round here and say it, but that’s the truth, the bottom line. I miss you – and I want things to go back to the way they were.’

  Josie felt unsteady on her feet and leaned against the work surface for support. She could hear Nell’s doubtful voice in her head now. You’re not about to tell me you’re getting back with him or anything?

  Nell thought she shouldn’t. Annette thought she shouldn’t.

  Then she thought of the boys. Sam had come home just that afternoon and said, ‘Everyone else in my school has got a daddy.’

  ‘You’ve got a daddy too!’ Josie had protested. ‘Even though he doesn’t live with us.’

  ‘We were drawing house pictures,’ Toby had put in. ‘And we had to draw who lived in our houses. And there’s only me and Sam and you in our house. Not Dad.’

  ‘I drew Dad looking through the window,’ Sam said. ‘But you weren’t letting him come in.’

  ‘Oh, Sam!’ Josie cried. ‘I always let Daddy in!’ She felt hurt at their words. ‘And you’re not the only ones, anyway. What about Oliver?’

  ‘His dad bought him a PlayStation,’ Toby replied. ‘Can we have one?’

  Josie shook the conversation out of her head now, feeling Pete’s gaze still resting upon her. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she confessed. She really didn’t.

  You’re not about to tell me you’re getting back with him or anything?

  He let you down big-time, remember?

  Everyone else in my school has got a daddy …

  The voices churned in her head, and she could hardly think. The pressure to speak was immense. This is it! Make your decision!

  ‘I …’ she faltered. He was right in front of her, an imploring expression on his face … Oh God. She could feel her resolve crumbling. Despite everything that had happened between them, all the tears and betrayals and hurt, she still fancied him. That hadn’t changed. She still had a physical reaction to him.

  Her fingers remembered how the back of his neck felt underneath his hair, her mouth remembered the imprint of his lips, her body remembered the way it felt to be held by him …

  He seized upon her hesitation, stepped forward and cupped the side of her face with a hand, gently lifting her chin so that she had to look at him. ‘You want it too, don’t you?’ he said quietly. ‘Mr and Mrs, Happy Families, both of us there for the boys.’ He paused, and inched his way forward a little more, so that he was closer still. His body was almost touching hers now, and he slid his other hand around her waist again, fingers resting lightly on the small of her back. ‘You want me, don’t you? I can tell,’ he said into her ear, and then he was kissing her, gentle butterfly kisses in her hair, and down her neck.

  Josie stood frozen in shock, clutching the worktop and trying her hardest not to respond.

  ‘Oh, Jose,’ he groaned, as his hand slid down on to her bottom.

  She could feel his heart beating through his shirt as he pressed her against him. She could hear the slow tick of his watch. It was nice, so nice, to be held again, and she shut her eyes for a moment to savour the sensation.

  You’re not about to tell me you’re getting back with him or anything?

  He let you down big-time, remember?

  ‘Stop/ she said. ‘No. I can’t do this.’

  He hadn’t stopped. He was still nuzzling the side of her neck, still caressing her. ‘Yeah, you can,’ he said into her hair. His hand slid under her top and she stepped away from him, breaking contact.

  ‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘No, I can t.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’ve just spent the last few months picking myself up after you trampled all over me,’ she told him. ‘You can’t just … do … that. You can’t. It’s not fair.’

  ‘But Josie, I—’ he said, but his mobile chose that moment to ring, interrupting him. He fished it out of his jeans pocket. ‘Just a minute,’ he said, holding up a finger. Then his face blanched as he saw the screen and he clicked it off without answering.

  ‘Who was it?’ Josie asked, feeling a new tension in the air. She knew, though. She already knew. Damn him. Damn him!

  ‘Oh, no one. Someone from work,’ he replied without looking at her.

  She glared at him. ‘Like you were ever going to change,’ she said coldly. ‘Someone from work, my arse. At this time of night?’

  He opened his mouth to argue, but something in her face seemed to stop him. He said nothing.

  Do you, Josie Catherine Bell take this man, Peter David Winter, to be your lawful wedded husband?

  No, she thought. No, I don’t. Not any more.

  ‘Look at you,’ she said. ‘You re the man I fell in love with. Married. Planned a future with. The man who let me down, told me all those lies, made me cry so much.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ he muttered, but she ignored him.

  ‘How can you possibly think it would work with us again, after that?’ she went on. ‘Every time your mobile rang, every time you were late back from work, I’d be wondering, Is that another one? Is he at it again?’ She sighed. ‘Don’t you see? I don’t want that. I need more. If you came back here, I’d need to know that you were one hundred per cent madly in love with me, proper love, this-is-forever love.’ She looked him full in the face. ‘You can’t give me that, we both know it. So I’m not going to settle for second-best.’

  He looked back at her. ‘You’ve met someone else, haven’t you? That’s why you’re saying all this. Because—’

  ‘No,’ she cut in. ‘This isn’t about anybody else. It’s about me and you.’

  ‘Have you met someone else?’ he asked.

  Josie felt irritated by the question. It was as if he couldn’t believe she was turning down his offer without some other guy waiting in the wings. That was the way he thought, clearly – couldn’t leave Sabine without lining up Josie as bedmate again. But Josie was different.

  ‘Have you?’ Pete prompted.

  Josie sighed. She wanted him to go now. ‘Pete, that’s just none of your business any more,’ she said. It’s late, anyway. Shouldn’t you be …?’

  He got to his feet, looking dejected. ‘Well, I think it is my business,’ he blustered. ‘I don’t want the boys having to meet all sorts of blokes that you’re—’

  ‘Get out,’ she said. ‘You’re drunk, and you’re about to say something really offensive. So just get out.’

  Josie was trembling as she deadlocked the front door and turned out the hall light. She could hardly believe she’d just sent him packing like that. But it was the right thing to do. It was definitely the right thing to do. Give him a few days and he’d be back with Sabine anyway, she reckoned. Or someone else he’d given the eye to at work. It wasn’t her problem any more.

  She went into the living room and picked up the phone. ‘Nell, it’s me, Josie,’ she said. ‘Sorry it’s a bit late to phone, but I had
to speak to you. You’ll never guess what’s just happened …’

  Nell cheered at the end of the retelling. ‘Thank fuck for that!’ she said. ‘For a minute I thought you were going to tell me you’d just had a rebound shag on the kitchen table.’

  Josie laughed. She was feeling light-headed with what she’d done now, buoyed up by her own self-belief. ‘Nah,’ she said. ‘Just for a second, I thought I might snog him – you know, I was tempted, when he tried. It’s that closeness, I do miss it. But I kept hearing you and my friend Annette saying, “Don’t do it! No!” in my head. So I stopped him before he got his hand in my bra.’

  ‘Good work,’ Nell said. ‘Ooh, I can’t wait to tell Rob this. He’ll be dead pleased.’

  Josie frowned. ‘What do you mean? I haven’t heard from him in ages. I thought he must have …’ She shrugged. ‘I dunno. Met someone else, or—’

  ‘No, he hasn’t,’ Nell said. ‘He was giving you a bit of space, I think. I’d told him a while back that Pete had been cosying up to you again, and he thought he’d back off in case you two wanted to make a go of it. But now you’ve told Pete where to stick his cosying-up …’

  Josie felt her pulse quicken. ‘And all this time I thought he’d just gone a bit cold on me,’ she said.

  ‘He hasn’t gone cold on you,’ Nell assured her. ‘I promise.’

  Six weeks later, Josie tramped up the steps of the underground and out into the crisp December air. She opened her A–Z and a cold wind snatched at its pages, howling around her legs before sending a tin can clattering into the gutter nearby.

  Let’s see … Blackfriars, there it was on the map. There was the Thames, a snake of blue on the paper. And there was the pub where Nell and Gareth were having their send-off. Which meant she needed to turn right, go up to the Strand, then cross over and turn right again … She snapped the book shut, suddenly feeling like a tourist. She’d find it. A two-minute walk away, Nell had said. No worries.