“Where’s Estelle?” Jo asked coldly.
Thomas let go of his bottle, his eyes drooped as Jo nestled him in her arms.
“Oh she’s erm…” Greg waved his hand then reached for a napkin and dried his eyes.
“What?” Jo asked sharply. She lifted the teacups off the tray and began to pour.
“She’s in Butterly, erm we’ve rented a place for a bit.” Greg mumbled. He pushed a plate and knife towards Jo, followed by butter, jam and scones.
“You’re back to stay then?” Jo asked.
“Well yes, I suppose we, er I am.” Greg looked up.
Jo shook her head in disbelief.
“Look Jo, I’ve been a bloody idiot and sitting on the beach over there I realised what a fool I was.” Greg’s words tumbled out. “I should never have gone away and left you.” He leaned in. “We needed this break and we’ll be great when we get back together.” He smiled encouragingly. “You need me Jo - you can’t do this on your own.” Greg’s words gushed. “I could be back with you tomorrow sorting everything out!” He was out of breath and sat back.
Jo sat back too and stared at him. She tried to remain calm as she listened to his outburst. She gripped her tea cup. Greg wanted to come back? Jo was gob smacked. The room had fallen quiet. Other diners seemed to be waiting for her response. Jo took a deep breath.
“Let’s get this straight Greg.” She began quietly. “You fuck off with that Spanish slapper and leave me high and dry with a baby barely weeks old...” She leaned in. “Then, after a sojourn around the continent, you find yourself sitting in the sun thinking about home?” Jo paused, her voice had become louder.
Stunned diners hung off her words as she continued.
“With the funds running low you suddenly think - ‘I know, I’ll get in touch with old Jo – she’s always been a soft touch and she’s no looker. She’ll have me back in a flash! But in the meantime I’ll keep Estelle on the go just in case Jo needs a bit of convincing…’ ”
Greg dragged his chair forward. He looked around nervously - the whole tearoom was listening! He put his hand up to stop Jo but she was in full flow. She slammed her teacup down and Thomas woke up.
“Let’s get this categorically clear once and for all…” Jo glared at Greg. “I would never take you back, no matter how bad things were and if you think you can dance into my life, with your sunny smile and start upsetting everything I’ve worked my arse off for, you’re very much mistaken!” Jo yelled.
Pete Parks winced from under the counter.
“You can see Thomas but you must call ahead and agree times.” Jo continued. “You’re not to step a single flip-flopped foot over my threshold or I’ll take you to court for maintenance and you won’t know what day it is with the shit that’ll stick to you!”
Thomas began to cry and Jo stood up. She was close to tears too. She thought of John Doherty and shot a parting blow…
“Christ - you’re not even very good in bed!”
Pete Parks punched the air and grinned. He raised himself from beneath the counter as a round of applause broke out. Jo pushed her chair back and headed blindly for the door. Greg stood too and crashed his chair to the floor.
“Come this way Jo!” Pete called out. He held the serving hatch and indicated that she should follow him. Jo hurried through the gap.
Greg was furious and shouted after her.
“I’ll fight you for custody! Don’t think you’ve heard the last, you won’t keep him!” Pete stepped forward.
“Now lad, best get on you’re way eh?” He gripped Greg’s shoulder.
“Oh piss off Pete!” Greg snarled.
“Off you go.” Pete shoved a dazed Greg out of the door. He was tempted to kick Greg’s backside but resisted. He smiled at the customers.
“Show’s over folks.”
He found Jo in the shop doorway. She clutched Thomas and tried not to cry. Pete led her through the showroom into his office and closed the door. He gently pulled them into his arms. Jo had begun to sob and Thomas bawled too.
“There, there lass, it’s over – don’t upset yourself.”
Eventually, Jo’s sobs subsided. She untangled herself and Pete held Thomas while she searched for a tissue. Jo wiped her eyes, blew her nose and looked at Pete.
“Thank you, I needed a hug.” She reached for Thomas and as he settled in her arms he stopped crying. “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t let Greg get to me but I suppose it’s just the shock that he’s back and that he has the audacity to think he can come waltzing into my life and business.” Jo tried to explain.
“No Lass, don’t say anything. The man’s a twat and he’s realised his mistake. You’ll be alright now you’ve got that lot off your chest.” Pete gazed at her cleavage and smiled.
“Did I really say all that?” Jo sniffed.
“Aye, it’ll make headlines in the Westmarland Tribune - ‘Man Gets A Lot More Than Than Tea With His Scones!’ ”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“I’d better get back.” Jo picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m sorry - I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t apologise, I’ll always be here for you, I’ve told you that.”
Pete thought about her lovely firm body in his arms, her naked waist and the smell of soft clean hair - a million miles from the acrid aroma of horses that he was used to at home. He opened the door and led her out to her car.
“Now don’t forget - don’t take any crap off him and I’m only on the end of the phone.” Pete watched Jo drive away. She waved and blew a kiss and his hand reached out and cupped the air. He held it in a fist as if catching her kiss. With a sigh Pete turned and went back to work.
* * *
“Well I never, the cheeky git!” Hattie exclaimed in wonder.
Jo clutched the telephone to her ear and leaned back in the office chair. She listened to Hattie rant on - Hattie couldn’t believe that Greg had turned up like a bad penny. Jo was beginning to have feelings of remorse, perhaps she shouldn’t have been so horrible to Greg but she was scared that he’d wind his way back into her affections and knew that she could never trust him.
“And you end up in the arms of Pete Parks?” Hattie almost yelled.
“He was only consoling me. Just being a friend.”
Jo stood up and closed the office door. The radio in the kitchen blasted out Rick Astley’s Never Goin’ Give You Up! Sandra and Gerald sang along.
“My arse!” Hattie said. “I’ll bet Pete Parks’ hands were groping for all their worth.”
“He was very kind Hattie, don’t try and twist it.”
“Oh he’ll twist it alright. He’ll screw it right into you if he gets half a chance.”
“Hattie!” Jo feigned shock but smiled as she listened. A heavenly smell of freshly baked scones reminded Jo that she was hungry. “Anyway never mind me, how are you getting on with Bertie?”
Jo kicked her shoes off, put her bare feet on the desk and admired the pink polish on her toenails. Paulie had assured her that Barbie Pink was ‘utterly glam’ this summer. Her aqua marine, wrap-around silk dress fell softly to one side, exposing her tanned legs.
“Are you having a great time?”
“Well the boys love it” Hattie replied. “They run round like two demented wild things all day and Bertie lets them, says they need to get Irish air in their lungs.”
“And what about you, what are you up to?” Jo tucked the receiver under her chin and filed a pink finger nail.
“I’m having a grand time. He’s as generous as can be and keeps inviting folk over to meet us. His house keeper seems to do everything for him, which is just as well - he’s so disorganised.” Hattie lowered her voice. “To be honest the house is crying out for a woman’s touch. He’s mental about his horses and I even went riding with him but I hate it. I couldn’t walk for two days, felt like my arse was in a vice…”
“Hah! Probably wasn’t the horse that caused that. I bet you�
��re shagging from dawn till dusk and all night too. Have I got to bring a stretcher when I meet you tomorrow?” Jo laughed.
“Well I wouldn’t say I am going without, put it anyway you want to – Bertie certainly does.”
“You’re impossible Hattie. So what are the plans today and what times’ your flight back?” Hattie had extended her stay by a few days and was due home tomorrow.
“We’re off to the beach in a bit. Bertie’s organised a picnic. He’s got the boys riding. I think I’ll just sit in a deckchair and watch. Honest Jo, he really seems to have accepted us and it is so bloody beautiful here.”
“Well, what about you get me through this shooting party, then get yourselves back out there for the rest of the holidays?” Jo said. “Crickey, you’ll be getting married next – have I got to go and buy a big hat?”
“Pah, I doubt I’ll be a bride again but I have to say you never know! You can wear pink crochet and hoops and look like a toilet roll holder.” Hattie giggled. “I’ll be back tomorrow and yes, I’ll think about coming back here soon. He’s even mentioning schools to me to go and look at, but I’ve got me Mam to think about Jo. I don’t know how she’d be if I up sticks and move.”
“Oh come on Hattie. Take her with you - I’m sure Bertie has masses of room.” Jo reassured. “Don’t let that stop you. It sounds like it’s working out for you and you want a life with Bertie. I know he does, that was obvious from the first time he saw you.” Jo’s stomach rumbled.
“I doubt Mam would move but it isn’t as though Dublin is on the other side of the world.”
“Exactly.” Jo said.
She heard the front door buzzer and whipped her legs off the desk. “I’ll have to go Hattie, someone’s just come in. Have a safe flight and bring me back a lucky leprechaun. See you tomorrow.”
Jo hung up and slipped her feet into a pair of soft suede pumps that matched her dress. She reached for a lipstick. With her back to the desk she peered in the mirror and smoothed Baby Pink colour over her lips.
“Afternoon tea for three?”
The world stopped. The lipstick fell to the floor. Hardly breathing, Jo slowly turned round and faced John Doherty.
“We’re closed” she said.
“You’re not.” John put head on one side and looked her up and down. He raised an eyebrow and grinned.
“We are.” Jo felt naked under his scrutiny.
“Your sign says open?”
“Fuck.”
“That’d be nice, with scones too? They smell delicious.” His grin broadened. “In the Green Room?” His beautiful blue eyes glinted as he waited for her reply.
“Fuck.”
“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He leaned over the counter, scooped her chin and kissed her. His lips were warm as they brushed her mouth. Jo’s stomach did somersaults. With a wink, he turned and strolled off to the Green Room where Rory and Pete Vardy had made themselves comfortable.
“Fuck!” Jo whispered to herself. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuckety Fuck!”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Greg woke early and glanced at Estelle as she slept next to him. Her long black hair poured over the white pillow like a slick of sticky oil. Greg shuddered. He slipped out of the double bed and picked up his discarded jeans and shirt then crept out of the room.
Their rented flat was on the third floor of a town house in Butterly and overlooked the River Bevan. As he unlocked the main door and loped down the stairs, Greg pulled his tattered loafers over his bare feet.
He stepped out and darted under an archway, then began a brisk walk along the main road which led to a stone bridge crossing the river. He hurried over to Butterly high street.
The town was deserted and Greg was hungry. He could smell bacon and eggs and his stomach rumbled as he opened the door of the Lemon Tree Café, where a few early risers tucked into hearty Westmarland breakfasts.
Greg crossed the wooden floor and found a vacant seat by the window. A pretty young waitress took his order and as he watched her retreat to the kitchen, he thought about Jo.
Yesterday had been a real shock. He’d expected to meet a tired, fraught and overworked Jo, ambling along in her scruffiest clothes, he certainly wasn’t prepared for the gorgeous creature who had, in no uncertain terms, told him exactly what she thought of him. His game-plan was teetering.
Greg heaped two sugars into a mug of tea and stirred thoughtfully. He wondered what the hell to do now. Estelle had been furious with him when he’d eventually got back to the flat. She’d taken one look at his face and knew immediately that his meeting with Jo had knocked him sideways. Greg had tried to pacify her. He explained that he’d not been emotionally prepared to see Thomas and it had upset him, which was true in part. The kid was his image and the cutest thing he could imagine. Estelle’s command of English wasn’t great and she’d ranted in Spanish for ages, but he’d got the gist – she didn’t want him anywhere near Jo.
What a bloody mess! Greg had been convinced that he’d be back with Jo within days and Estelle on a plane to Alicante. But his plan had back-fired. Although he’d kept Estelle in tow as a back-up, he wasn’t too sure that it was such a good idea. It had enraged Jo. He pushed his half finished breakfast to one side and reached in his shirt pocket for a cigarette.
“Will there be anything else?” The waitress placed an ashtray in front of him and picked up the plate. She gave him a coy smile and hovered.
“Not right now.”
Greg grinned, he couldn’t help himself and a pretty girl was irresistible. But he had to think of a way of winning his wife back. He dragged heavily on the cigarette and leaned back, blowing smoke rings as he stared out of the window and contemplated the situation.
The hotel she’d opened looked great and from the talk around the place, it seemed to be doing alright. He was so angry with himself. Jo had wanted to buy that place ages ago when it was going for a song, and he’d dismissed it as too much like hard work. Why rock the boat when the pub was making a mint? Christ, he’d like to have his feet under the table now. He could see himself behind the bar - mixing cocktails for well-heeled guests and entertaining the residents, many of whom would be rich attractive women. He’d seen Jinny Atkinson go in yesterday. Now that was a pair of hips he wouldn’t mind handling! The last year with Estelle had drained him. Living a five star lifestyle has depleted most of his bank account and there was barely enough to put down on a bar on the Costas. Not that he was keen to do that. Long days and late nights were all well and good, but he didn’t have Jo driving him and Estelle hadn’t a clue when it came to business. Or conversation for that matter, she was very immature. She’d learnt quickly in the bedroom but even that was becoming a bit of a bore…
Butterly was gradually coming to life and as he looked out, Greg lit another cigarette and surveyed the busy street.
In the last few days, he’d driven to Kirkton Sowerby several times and parked by the pub to watch the hotel. Yesterday, there’d been some very flashy cars outside. Two men met got out of a Ferrari and met up with a guy who pulled up in a top of the range Mercedes. They’d spent a couple of hours sitting in the room to the left – and seemed to be having a meeting. People came and went for meals and some were staying. He’d seen a young man, smartly dressed in shirt and bow tie, assist people with luggage. She’ll be raking it in!
Greg ground his cigarette out and put some money on the table. The waitress gave him a wave as he left the café. He flashed a smile and noted the name on the plastic badge on her apron – Christine. No time for flirting now, Estelle would be wondering where he was. He sighed. She nagged all the time and wanted to go back to Spain, she hated the damp English flat. How things had changed in a year! He’d got to turn this round! Somehow he had to find a way to get back with Jo.
Greg quickened his step and thought about Thomas. Being a good father would certainly help. How could she turn him away once she saw how much Thomas would want to be with his Dad? He rubbed his hands together and began to smile.
It was only a matter of time. He’d find a phone box and give her a ring, perhaps he could take Thomas out this afternoon? He hadn’t a clue what to do with a small child but Estelle would know. Feeling happier than he had in several days, he set off in search of a telephone.
* * *
“Give me a gay moment!” Hattie was aghast.
Perched on her stool in reception she watched Jo wriggle uncomfortably on the office chair.
“The bloody cheek!” Hattie continued. “He calls in for afternoon tea, uses the Green Room for a meeting and pisses off without so much as a ‘When can I take you out for dinner?’ ”
“Well he paid for the tea and said he would call me in a couple of days.” Jo replied limply. She wished she hadn’t said anything to Hattie about John Doherty’s visit the day before. It’d been made worse by Jinny Atkinson who turned up as Pete Vardy left. John took Jinny into the Green Room and closed the door. At least Rory hadn’t left them alone together but Jo wondered what the hell was going on. Jinny had avoided Jo and for once, wasn’t rude and arrogant.
“Jo he’s a little shite and you‘d do better to kick him into touch.” Hattie was angry.
“What’s he actually done wrong Hattie?” Jo said. “He’s a typical man – looked for opportunity and took it, he doesn’t owe me anything.”
The words choked in her throat as she remembered John leaning over the desk and kissing her.
“He’s playing with your affections and he knows it. He’s got you on a piece of string that he can reel in whenever he feels like it and it’s time you cut it.” Hattie jumped off the stool. “He’s obviously doing the same with Jinny Atkinson, I almost feel sorry for the poor cow.”
“You’re right.” Jo sighed.
She hated to admit it, but John really was a sod. She felt so inexperienced in these matters and hadn’t a clue how to handle things, she knew she should listen to Hattie and tell him to get stuffed. She decided to change the subject.
“More important is the problem of Greg. Can you believe that he’s living in Butterly with the hateful Estelle and wants to pick up with me again?” Jo pushed her chair back.
Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me... Page 19