The Birds and the Bees

by Milly Johnson

  She must have just come into the supermarket for she had only collected the one item so far–and what an item! She hadn’t seen him because she was concentrating on trying to guide a trolley with a demonically possessed front wheel, so the advantage was his. It was wicked, but he couldn’t resist charging deliberately into her trolley with his own, full of many bottles of spirits, mainly whisky, which rattled in rude protest. Then he gave her a look of mock surprise that wouldn’t have fooled the king of village idiots.

  ‘Well fancy meetin’ yooou here. Adjusting to single life verrry quickly, I see,’ he bellowed, pointing down to the very long cucumber standing erect in her trolley. She blushed immediately and threw the nearest thing to hand in beside it to dilute the embarrassment. A tray of stir-fry.

  ‘Oooh yum yum,’ he said puckishly. ‘Cucumber stir-fry, my favourite.’

  ‘Was there something you wanted, Mr MacLean?’ said Stevie haughtily, trying not to blush any harder.

  ‘No’ really,’ he said, trying not to be so amused that she was redder than the vine-ripened tomatoes nearby. She would be fun to torture, he thought. It might take his mind off what her man was doing with his woman.

  ‘Only I’ve far more important things to do than stand here being insulted by you.’

  ‘I wonder what they could be?’ he smiled like a barracuda, raised his eyebrows and cast a look at the impressive cucumber.

  She sooo wanted to batter him round the head with it.

  ‘My fiancé is calling around later,’ Stevie said, ignoring his pathetic childish innuendos. He looked interested now and less piss-takey.

  ‘Oh really?’ he said, folding his arms. ‘Whit forrr?’

  ‘I don’t know, but he’s coming when my son is in bed so he obviously wants to talk. I’m quietly optimistic,’ which she was, surprisingly enough. After she got home from the wedding, she had looked up ‘winning your partner back’ on the internet and picked up a thread about ‘the power of positive thought’. Apparently, the trick was to visualize what she wanted to happen and focus on that. It was worth a try; anything was worth a try. So by that token, she had been telling herself since then that Matthew was coming home tonight for good. He had finished with Jo at the reception because she was so boring and uninteresting and had bad breath, and now they were back on track to get married and live happily ever after. And Adam MacLean would be kidnapped by aliens and whisked off to Saturn for painful medical experiments.

  ‘Well, good luck,’ said Adam MacLean, ‘but will ye take a piece of advice?’

  ‘No,’ said Stevie and started to wheel away, but he grabbed her handlebar forcefully and made sure she wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘Well, I’m givin’ it tae ya anyway, so take it or leave it. Basic psychology. Play it exactly the opposite tae how he’d expect you tae behave. It’s yoor only weapon.’

  Whether or not he meant to imply that her looks or her personality wouldn’t do much in a head-to-head with Jo, that’s the way she took it.

  ‘Yes, well thank you, Professor Platitude,’ she huffed belligerently. ‘I look forward to your next lecture with great eagerness. What will it be, I wonder? Jung’s theory of the Absolutely Bloody Obvious?’

  Not that he’d know who Jung was. Probably thought she meant the old DJ whose first name was Jimmy. And with that, Stevie and her enormous cucumber weaved off in the direction of the celery, whilst her trolley headed for Fresh Meats.

  She turned up at Catherine’s just after half past eleven to find the kitchen in chaos and Danny tucking into a full English breakfast.

  ‘How the hell did you get him to eat that?’ said Stevie, after she had given him a big ‘hello’ kiss. ‘I can hardly get him to eat anything except for Coco Pops and chicken–and his flaming collars of course!’

  ‘Ah, the wonderful mystery of children,’ said Catherine. ‘Violet doesn’t eat eggs usually, she’s only eating them because Danny is, and he’s only eating them because Kate is. James obviously eats nothing because he never gets up.’

  ‘Does Violet eat them when Kate eats them then?’

  ‘Naw, doesn’t work like that–they’re related,’ said Catherine with a sniff, leading her pal off for a coffee in a quieter corner after swiping bits of uneaten bacon from the twins, Sarah and Robbie. ‘Mmm, why is it that food stolen from kids always tastes so good?’ she said, smacking her lips in neo-orgasmic delight. ‘Oh, by the way, Danny’s got a snaggy toenail, Kate said, but he wouldn’t let her cut it off. He said the Toenail Pixie will get it later, is that right?’

  ‘He’s scared of getting his toenails cut, so I do them in the middle of the night when he’s asleep. He thinks a pixie comes and does it,’ explained Stevie.

  ‘I don’t know how you think of these things,’ said Catherine. ‘I haven’t a creative bone in my body.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, I think you’ve created quite a lot,’ said Stevie, looking at the kitchen scene, which looked like a Waltons family reunion, with Danny playing the special guest-star part. ‘He looks so happy here,’ she said, as he giggled at Eddie who was trying to pretend that one of them had stolen the sausage that he had just fed to Boot under the table.

  ‘You worry too much,’ said Catherine.

  ‘He was in front of the headmaster last week for smacking Curtis Ryder.’

  ‘…Who was trying to pull his trousers down,’ said Catherine sternly, because she knew where this was going. ‘That’s why Curtis Ryder got a thump, not because Danny’s doolally because Matthew’s gone. The lad’s standing up for himself, like you always tell him to. Take a chill pill, gal’. And she shoved a packet of medicinal chocolate digestives at her to break open with her nails.

  ‘I don’t know how he’ll react if Matthew and I don’t get back together, Cath. He takes disappointment so badly.’

  Catherine gave her a comforting tap tap on the shoulder. ‘All kids take disappointment badly, Steve. It’s not just Danny; he’s a normal little kid with little kid funny little ways. Some carry comfort blankets, some suck their thumbs, sleeves or collars–it’s what they do at four. You are a GOOD MOTHER. He gets more love and attention from you than most kids do with two parents, and if the worst happens, he’ll cope. He’ll have to, and so will you.’

  Catherine knew, of course, what was mostly on her friend’s troubled mind as she continued, ‘Stevie, he didn’t know Mick and he hardly got used to Matthew. He won’t be damaged.’

  ‘But he asks me, if his daddy loved him, why did he die and leave him? Then he’ll see that another man who supposedly loved him has left him too. It’s laying down a pattern for him. He’ll be in therapy by the time he’s six, thinking he’s been rejected by two fathers.’ Stevie suddenly stamped her foot as a bubble of frustration burst inside her. ‘You know, I’m really angry at Matthew for putting Danny through this more than I am for myself. All the time we were living together, supposedly happily becoming a family, he was carrying on with her. Didn’t it even cross his mind that Danny was getting closer to him every day and would get hurt?’

  ‘Well, blokes don’t think past their dicks half the time,’ said Catherine, ‘and we don’t know when they started getting it together, do we? I’m sure Matthew wouldn’t have moved you in if he wasn’t serious about you, which makes me think it’s a pretty recent thing so there’s a good chance it will be like a cheap firework and die quickly. Good news you’re getting angry, though. It’s far more healing than getting upset.’

  ‘Thanks for helping me out so much and for having Danny, Cath.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, he’s no trouble at all–it’s just one more plate on the table for me. In fact, the kids behave better when he’s here. Outsiders divert them from killing each other. Anyway, I think I owe you a few, after all you’ve done for me in your time.’

  Catherine’s family, close as they purported themselves to be, were never that keen on helping in practical ways. Before Kate was old enough to extort massive babysitting fees in exchange for the job, it had been Stev
ie who looked after them sometimes, to give Catherine and Eddie a few hours’ break together. It had been Stevie who did most of the vacuuming and washing and ironing in the background when Catherine’s babies arrived, whilst the relatives were sitting on their fat backsides drinking tea and cooing. Catherine never forgot that.

  ‘Matthew’s coming round later when Danny goes to bed,’ said Stevie. ‘He came after me yesterday and caught me up in the foyer, just before I got my taxi home.’

  Catherine stopped mid-pour. ‘Did he say what for?’

  ‘No, he just made arrangements to come over and then disappeared. How were they after I’d gone?’ She knew Matthew hadn’t been slaughtered en route back to the table because she’d checked the local news on Ceefax first thing that morning and there was no mention of ‘Mad Highland Nutter Axeman Kills Love Rival at Wedding’.

  ‘Much the same,’ said Catherine, plonking the biscuits in front of Stevie. ‘They were just talking, nothing else.’

  ‘Did they leave together?’

  Catherine didn’t answer, which answered the question anyway.

  Stevie sighed heavily. ‘Do you know, one minute I think he might be coming round to tell me he doesn’t want me to move out, and then the next…I mean, if they left together, that means it’s still on between them, doesn’t it? He’s not alone at that B&B, is he?’ Oy, you, think positive! reminded her inner mantra, but it was so very difficult.

  ‘I don’t know, Steve, but there’s no point in driving yourself barmy speculating; you’ll have to wait and see what he has to say. Have you eaten? You hardly had a thing yesterday.’ She pushed the biscuits almost up Stevie’s still-tender nose.

  ‘I’ve not got much appetite. I went into the supermarket first thing this morning to see if I could find anything to tempt it back, and only bumped straight into that flaming man MacLean again, didn’t I.’

  ‘Didn’t have anything embarrassing in your trolley, did you?’ Catherine laughed gently. ‘Like a monster pack of All Bran and loads of toilet rolls.’

  ‘Worse,’ said Stevie.

  ‘Oh God, no! Not pile cream!’

  ‘Not even close.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Only the world’s largest cucumber.’

  ‘No!’ Catherine let loose a peal of horrified laughter.

  ‘His trolley was so full of booze the wheels were nearly flat. Typical piss-head Scot.’

  ‘A cucumber! NO! Did he say anything? Sorry!’ she apologized for not being able to control herself. She was shaking with laughter.

  ‘Yes, he made some crack about “adjusting to single life quickly”.’

  ‘NO!’

  ‘Then he forced me to listen to his advice that I should play this exactly the opposite to what Matthew might expect of me.’

  ‘That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Stevie, ‘but I’m a woman and he probably doesn’t think I have the capacity for such logical thought. Chauvinistic butt-ugly thug.’

  ‘Actually…’ began Catherine, then snapped off what she was going to say.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh go on, say it.’

  ‘You’ll hate me if I do.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Well, Eddie thought he seemed a nice bloke,’ said Catherine tentatively. ‘Genuine.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Cath, he’s bound to have developed a super-charm gland, looking like that,’ said Stevie with a mirthless laugh. ‘Otherwise he couldn’t have pulled someone who looked like Joanna. Think about it.’

  ‘I thought he was quite attractive close up,’ said Catherine, ‘especially with all that hair off. And he has fabulous legs. Bet his thighs are…’

  ‘Stop, you’re making me ill.’

  ‘He was looking after all the old relatives. He seemed to know all the steps to the dances.’

  ‘It’s something he’ll have learned in the Highlands. It’s how they unwind after biting the heads off live Sassenachs for breakfast. Hitler probably knew a few swanky moves. Apparently he could be quite charming too.’

  ‘You’re being silly now.’

  ‘I don’t like him,’ said Stevie. ‘You won’t convince me he’s a really nice bloke.’

  For once, Catherine didn’t try. The last person she had said was a ‘really nice bloke’ was Matthew, and look how that seemed to have turned out.

  Chapter 18

  Danny was tired out and asleep by half past seven, which left one and a half hours of absolute nerve-jangling torture in which the hands of the clock seemed to stay so still that at one point Stevie lifted it to her ear to see if it was still working. The time went trebly slow from nine o’clock until five past, when Matthew’s black Punto pulled up outside. For the seven millionth time, Stevie quickly checked her precisely chosen casual clothes in the mirror and looked to see that there was no lipstick on her teeth. Matthew knocked on the door, which indicated a big marker of their estrangement, and Stevie was careful not to jump too quickly to open it. Slowly, slowly, she paced herself. She opened, smiled, invited him in and then went to sit in the big winged armchair.

  Adam’s words suddenly reverberated very loudly in her head. ‘Play it exactly the opposite tae how he’d expect you tae behave.’ Not that she was going to play it any other way, but he made her push it that one notch further. Matthew would have expected her to be tarted up to the nines ready to seduce him back. He would have expected her to sit on the sofa in the hope that he would join her and not be able to resist snuggling up. He would have expected her to have the kettle on and offer him tea, so she did none of those things.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ said Stevie with a small smile.

  ‘Well, firstly I came to see if there was any post,’ said Matthew.

  ‘It’s on the hall table waiting for you,’ said Stevie, still clinging on for grim death to her friendly nice-lady smile.

  ‘And secondly…’ He raked his hand through his thick dark hair. ‘Sorry, it’s a bit awkward. I thought you should know, because I don’t want there to be any lies between us’–which made Stevie gulp down the biggest sarcastic laugh her voice box could hope to create–‘I…er…asked Joanna out last night.’

  ‘Joanna? But she’s married,’ said Stevie, taking her place on the stage to receive her Oscar for ‘best shocked actress’.

  ‘She’s…er…split up from Adam at last. As I found out last night. So…er…I’ll need the house back as soon as I can.’

  Stevie felt shaky and sick. ‘What? You’re moving her in already–after one night?’

  ‘No, of course not. Don’t be silly.’ Matthew’s hand went nervously to his hair again and then he started rubbing his neck. He really wasn’t very good at lying.

  He must think I’m an idiot to believe all this, thought Stevie, suddenly filled with a boiling rage which took over her mouth, totally bypassing her brain.

  ‘Well, actually, I was going to tell you, Matthew, that I’ve found somewhere and I’ll be out by Wednesday. I can’t make it any earlier than that, I’m afraid, so I hope that will be okay with you?’

  ‘Oh yes…great.’

  Great? He actually said great. The rage temperature shot up a few more centigrade. She was not even letting herself think of what she was saying; she just wanted to show him she was in control and okay and bigger than this. Even if she wasn’t. Even if inside she was vibrating with anger and fear and hurt, outside she would look as if she could cope. Stevie stood up, surprised that her legs had been strong enough to support her.

  ‘I’ll pop my keys through the letterbox when I leave. Let’s say, by Wednesday noon.’

  ‘Five o’clock would do,’ said Matthew, seemingly unable to cover up the sweat of his relief. If he’d had a handkerchief handy he would have probably mopped his brow at this point, Stevie thought. Like Louis Armstrong singing ‘Wonderful World’.

  ‘Okay, five o’clock then.’

  ‘Right. Brilliant.’

  ‘So
let’s get your post,’ Stevie said, rising to her feet. ‘Where are you staying?’ She clung on to the amicable smile. It was like hanging onto something burning; it hurt and she couldn’t wait to let go of it.

  ‘Oh, just one of the hotels in town.’

  Hotel. So it wasn’t a grotty little B&B after all then. She wanted to ask which one, and whether Jo was staying there too, and watch him squirm because, had she had any life savings left, Stevie would have put them on the perfidious pair being holed up together in a double room in this mysterious and nameless ‘hotel in town’. But that’s what he would be expecting her to do, cross-examine him, so she didn’t. She played outside his expectations. There was something she did need to ask, though.

  ‘So, about our wedding,’ she began, her voice croaking like a frog on forty Woodbines a day.

  Matthew didn’t say anything; he just looked at her with big, apologetic, brown eyes.

  Stevie gritted her teeth and said, ‘I thought so. Well okay,’ she managed, with a ‘let’s get on with it then’ hand clap. ‘You tell your parents and your relatives, I’ll do the rest.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, as if he had just accidentally stood on her toe and not smashed up her life with a sledgehammer.

  ‘To be expected in the circumstances. Especially if you’re asking other people out,’ she said, her upper lip so stiff, she doubted it would soften in three tons of Lenor.

  ‘Bye, Stevie, you’re such a lovely, understanding person,’ he said, and he shocked her with a big grateful hug after he picked up his post and stuck it in his pocket, which at least proved to her just how surprising the unexpected could be. She extricated herself, battling the urge to stay there and fill herself with the smell and the feel of him and to beg him not to leave her.

  ‘Bye, Matthew.’