‘Why didn’t you use your mobile?’
‘Can’t find it,’ he said. Lying again. He had finally cancelled it in a desperate economy measure. That, and cancelling his gym membership, would save him a hundred quid a month easily.
‘Anyway, why do you think the man’s got a problem?’
‘Well, you only have to look at him,’ said Matthew. ‘He’s a total numpty. He was born middle-aged, he’s never had a girlfriend and he’s never likely to get one either.’
‘He could be gay,’ said Jo.
‘No chance. He likes to hang around women too much. Not that he’d know what to do with one. Unless he found a blind one into trainspotting.’
‘Bitchy! I’ve always found him quite amiable in passing,’ said Jo, slapping Matthew gently.
‘Well, you are a very beautiful girl and will no doubt have charmed him where everyone else has failed.’
‘Aw, sweetie,’ said Jo and stroked his hand, making his skin purr with pleasure. ‘He’s probably just lonely.’
‘Seedy? Yeah, probably is,’ said Matthew. ‘Anyway, I think he’ll be leaving soon, thank God. They’ve wanted him to go over and run the New York offices for ages, but he lived with his mum and that stopped him going. She died a couple of months ago and left him a stack.’ Lucky bugger, thought Matthew. What he wouldn’t give for a windfall like that. And the chance to go and live in New York. He’d gladly swap places with Seedy for all that–brown suits, fat gut, comb-over, Hallowe’en face and all.
‘Poor man,’ said Jo, with a heavy sigh.
‘Poor man, nothing! He’s a frustrated git who is jealous of anyone who looks as if they are getting a shag,’ said Matthew, ‘and the reason he is nice to you, darling, is because you are simply gorgeous and he probably wants to eat you all up, like I do.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jo, giving him her most beautiful smile. ‘Talking of eating, shall we dine out tonight and celebrate how lovely I am then?’
‘Oh what the hell, why not,’ said Matthew, who found he really did not want to be at home amongst the negative energy of a stack of unpaid bills, or drawn to the window to see what was going on across at the cottage. Not that anything Stevie did could affect him, you understand, she was out of his life. That’s what he found he had to keep telling himself anyway.
Adam MacLean rang her just as she was making up a cup of Horlicks to take to bed. It was ten o’clock and Matthew and Jo were just coming home from somewhere. Stevie watched as Jo slammed the door of the car and fumbled angrily with the house lock, leaving Matthew in her wake and looking very sheepish. He flashed a look towards the cottage to see if anyone was witnessing his humiliation and for once Stevie didn’t step back from the shadows. Why shouldn’t she be at her window, closing her blinds? If Matthew wanted to play with fire, let him get burnt. She hadn’t done anything to skulk into the shadows for.
‘Hi there,’ Stevie drawled into the mouthpiece, looking very dreamy as she was talking. Let Matthew Finch observe that as well–ha!
‘It’s me, Adam,’ he said, thinking she couldn’t have realized. She was talking like Emmanuelle.
‘I know, I’m being watched.’
‘They cannae hear you!’
‘No, but the voice comes free with the expression.’ Honestly, what did he think? That she was actually trying to seduce him? She watched as Matthew followed Jo into the house and closed the door meekly behind him. Boy, what Stevie wouldn’t give to be a fly with big ears on that wall.
‘It looks to me as if my neighbours across the street might just have had a row. She’s stomping about and he looks totally whitewashed,’ reported Stevie.
‘Guid. Wonder if it’s anything to do with us?’
‘No doubt we’ll get to know in due course if it is.’
‘Have you got your invite?’
‘What invite?’
‘For Will and Pam’s barbecue.’
‘No.’
‘Well, it’s on its way. You know what I’m going to say, don’t ye?’
It wasn’t hard to work out.
‘What? You and me to go together?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Colour co-ordinated?’
‘As long as it’s blue. No yellow or pink.’
‘When is it though? It all depends if I can get a babysitter.’
‘Saturday. Apparently, the weather at the weekend is going to be gorgeous and the good news is that you don’t need to find a babysitter because the kids are invited too. Pam’s organized a Bouncy Castle and a magician and thousands of e-numbers-worth of sweets and pop. Will asked me if I minded him inviting Matthew and Jo and I said not at all. In fact, I positively encouraged him to do so.’
‘I don’t know if I dare.’
‘Oh, you dare,’ said Adam with a sort of jolly threat. ‘And what’s more, we’ll take centre-stage on this one, lady. Just you wait and see.’
Jo had never really forgiven Matthew for carrying no cash with him at Will’s wedding. She had got sick of dipping into her purse to pay for all the drinks at the reception that night, but she swallowed it because she thought it was a one-off genuine mistake on his part. But tonight was unforgivable! First she had to bear the embarrassment when his card was declined, then she had to stand by as he looked hopelessly through a wallet he knew was empty, as if he was Paul Daniels and would suddenly shout, ‘And that’s magic!’ and flourish up two fifty-pound notes. They were starting to attract attention for all the wrong reasons, and so she whipped out her Amex to reclaim some dignity, only to have to bear the in dignity when that too was declined. Luckily, she had her chequebook and in anger and embarrassment, she had written out the wrong amount and had to do another. She would never go in that restaurant again, at least not with Matthew. How dare he treat her like that? Funny how he always had money on him when he went shopping for those poncey male moisturizers and face packs. Adam would not have been seen dead with a mudpack on. And he had paid her Amex bill every month. Foolishly, she had not considered that he might have cancelled his direct debit and that she would have to stump up for it from now on. She had taken his generosity for granted for so long. Not even the prospect of Matthew’s half a million to come could salve the humiliation of this evening.
‘Please, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. Please, let me make it up to you,’ Matthew pleaded in bed and started to smudge his mouth down her body, but she pushed him away and presented him with her back.
‘Matthew, just go to sleep,’ she said. Sex might have had a big place in Jo MacLean’s life, but next to money, its importance was negligible.
Chapter 37
‘Have you got your invite?’ said Catherine, with a just-dropped-the-kids-at-school Tuesday-morning phone call.
‘It’s just arrived now in the post.’
‘And?’
‘Yes, before you ask, I’m going with Adam MacLean.’
‘Fandabidozy!’
‘Is Matthew going?’
‘They’ve been invited. Apparently, Will asked Adam first if he minded and he said no, and Pam asked me to ask you if it was okay.’
‘Yes, it’s fine.’
‘I said that. In fact, I insisted she invite them because I just know that you two have a plan up your sleeves, don’t you?’ laughed Catherine.
‘I wouldn’t say it was a plan exactly. We just want them to see us together.’
‘About time too,’ giggled Catherine. ‘Anyway, what are you going to wear?’
‘I’m going shopping for something new.’
‘When?’
‘Towards the end of the week, probably.’
‘Can I come?’
‘Absolutely.’
They met for their shopping trip on Thursday, mainly because Stevie needed to get in a couple of days’ hard writing on the story of Damme and Evie. Even with his (battle) scar, the big Scot was turning out to be an incredibly powerful character–against her will, it had to be said. He was evolving all on his own. Obviously, as a Mid
night Moon hero, he had to be wonderful, but Damme MacQueen definitely had the McX factor. Evie presumed his roughness was not consigned to his exterior, and he thought her beauty was only skin deep–it was sexual Semtex. They were far too good for Crystal’s conveyor-belt fiction and Stevie wished she had saved him for the long romantic novel she so wanted to write. She was having a great deal of fun writing the lovers’ verbal battle scenes, each one of them misjudging the other totally.
Was that what she and Adam were doing? she had thought more than once recently. She had seen the scar on Jo’s leg, witnessed her tears and fears but really, it was all circumstantial evidence, as they said on A Touch of Frost. Stevie had made herself a firm promise that she would butt out of the Honeywell/MacLean alliance at the first sign of violence, but there had been not even a hint of it so far. Could Jo have been telling lies? Did women have the same capacity for deception that men had? Was there really that much smoke without fire? Not that it mattered really, since Stevie’s involvement with Adam was merely a means to an end, as was his involvement with her. She couldn’t give a damn what happened to either him or Jo after she and Matthew got back together. Really.
Catherine picked out a very floaty summer blue dress from the rack. ‘Try this on.’
‘Wow, that’s perfect,’ Stevie said. Just the colour Adam had said he was going in too–although she would be dressing for Matthew, not Adam, a nudging thought reminded her.
‘Go try.’
Stevie go-ed and tried. Then she came out of the changing rooms and gave her friend a modest twirl.
‘That’s the one,’ said Catherine.
‘Do you think?’
‘Deffo.’
‘Well, that’s totally spoilt the morning then,’ said Stevie.
‘Nothing says you can’t buy the first dress you see,’ said Catherine. ‘Anyway, now we’ll have more time to accessorize and scoff buns.’
‘Well done, that woman,’ said Stevie, and went off to pay lots of money. She had so much spare this month. Even with the big wodge of rent money out of her account, life was infinitely cheaper living without Matthew than with him.
Salvation came for Matthew in the form of a letter from Goldfish, which arrived on the same day as his formal invite to Pam and Will’s barbecue. They had upped his Visa limit by two grand, so he immediately took out a cash advance and paid the mortgage arrears off before the interest crippled him any further. It was no big deal, he told himself. Some people lived all their lives robbing Peter to pay Paul, although he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do that because Peter hadn’t anything left to rob and Paul was going to send some big mates round with knuckledusters on soon. He called the bank and made an appointment to see his account manager, in the hope of getting a consolidating loan. Then he planned, once and for all, how he was going to tell Jo the truth: that he wasn’t just in that house as a stopgap until his ‘family’ investments matured and allowed him to buy a nice pile in the country. That he couldn’t afford a fancy dancing wedding and the meals out every night would have to stop because he was poor, poor, poor. She would not be happy, but the scene at the restaurant had brought things to a bit of a head. He hadn’t expected Jo to react quite as badly as she did, and it made him aware that he needed to tell her everything, now, whilst things were the worst financially that they could possibly be. She loved him, she would understand. Of that, at least, he was totally convinced.
Jo still wasn’t talking to him. They hadn’t had sex since the weekend and nothing he did, or tried to do, had warmed up the frosty air between them. He saw her enter the office after her lunch-break, waved over and smiled, but she sailed past him, carrying a posh-looking carrier bag, and his expression dropped to that of a kicked puppy. He sighed and got out his Visa, then made a call to 118 118 to find out the number of an Interflora, then rang ‘Floral Fixation’ and ordered an extravagant bouquet to be sent to a Ms J. MacLean in Design. He did not notice that Colin Seed was well in earshot behind him.
Meeting up deliberately early so they could have a quick natter at the school gates, Stevie filled Catherine in on all the details since their last meet. She had, of course, rung to tell her that Matthew had seen them together, but trying to have a long intense conversation with children on both sides continually interrupting meant only the gossip skeleton was delivered, in preparation for the flesh to be put on now.
‘You look better than you did,’ said Catherine, adding cheekily, ‘In fact, you looked bloody terrible at Josh Parker’s party. Adam must have rejuvenating lips.’
‘Don’t be obscene!’
‘Anyway, I’m glad he sorted Dickhead and his balloons out for you.’
‘Yes, he did,’ said Stevie, not realizing she was smiling. She had played that little scene over and over again to herself on a continuous loop–Adam MacLean coming around the corner just at the very moment when she felt at her most helpless. She had used it in her book where Damme arrived, just as the evil Richard had Evie pinned in a corner. The difference being that Evie’s heart had started fluttering, whilst her own had…er…started fluttering actually. Stop that. That is a ridiculous thought, and not a true recollection, she mentally slapped herself. That was the trouble with having the imagination of a romantic novelist: the story world and the real world blurred and crossed over in some cases. She had ended up on more than one occasion seeing things as she wanted to see them and not as they really were. Men being the prime example.
‘So as we were saying,’ prompted Catherine, waving her hand in front of Stevie’s face to check she was still with them, ‘…about Adam. How did it feel to snog him?’
‘I didn’t snog him, Cath. I just kissed him very lightly once, and then we both went inside and started wiping our mouths.’
She had only been so playground puerile because she saw his hand come up to his mouth first and therefore she needed to prove that kissing him was every bit and more disgusting than he seemed to find it. Although it hadn’t been disgusting at all, she was forced to admit. He had very soft lips not that she wanted to dwell on that particular detail.
‘Steve, is all this worth it?’ Catherine asked suddenly. ‘Kissing men you can’t stand, buying expensive frocks…’
‘Yes, Cath, it is,’ Stevie said, picking up her carrier bag with the lovely blue dress in it. She had lost Mick to Linda, there was no way she would let history repeat itself by losing Matthew to Jo.
Chapter 38
There was a slight panic on the Friday as unforecasted rains came: great heavy flash floods and sparking lightning that Saturday brides and barbecuers alike stared out at in dismay. Stevie and Danny, walking home from an after-school visit to the park, were caught in a spectacular shower that drenched them totally, and they ran home half-laughing, half-screaming like mad things, then peeled off their saturated clothes and climbed straight into a big bubbly bath together.
Luckily, the clouds were gone the next day, except for a few wispy mares’ tails and the air was already very warm and shimmery above the garden. By mid-morning, brides everywhere reached for their lipsticks with relieved smiles. Stevie had worked in the sunny garden all week, and a splash of freckles had appeared all over her nose and cheeks as if flicked there by a paintbrush. The light tanning of her skin made her eyes seem as blue as that day’s skies and they shone with anticipation and excitement. She toasted a little further as she and Danny spent most of the day in the garden weeding out the potatoes that plagued the flowerbeds and digging out the dandelions, and the physical work took her mind nicely off the nervous anticipations of the evening to come. Then Danny fell asleep under the umbrella whilst she was mowing the grass, and as it was probably going to be a late evening for him, she let him sleep on until it was time to get his bath and then his party shirt on. Catherine had arranged for Eddie to pick him up and take him to the Flanagans’ house so he could go along with the rest of the children.
‘That’ll give you another two hours to make yourself beautiful,’ she had said with a w
ink, and Stevie had retorted, ‘I’ll need more than that!’
‘Not in that frock you won’t,’ said Catherine. ‘All the work’s done for you.’
And so, as soon as Danny ran joyfully down the lane in his red dragon party shirt to Uncle Eddie and Gareth awaiting in the car, Stevie jumped in a bath armed with exfoliators, hair treatments and her trusty razor blade–a woman with a mission.
Apart from the fact that her hand was shaking when she put her eyeliner on and she had to redo one total socket, Stevie was quite pleased with her self-treatment, although she knew she couldn’t compete with Jo’s salon-perfection. Catherine was right, the dress was beautiful and fitted as if it had been made for her. She had dropped over a stone and a half in weight since all this business had started and the nipped-in waist only served to accentuate the curves below and above it. The dress pointed out the best bits even further, and teamed up with some strappy gold sandals that would probably cripple her in an hour, and a blue flower holding back her hair at one side, she looked fresh and rather lovely.
She had met Adam briefly at the gym the previous day. He was zipping about busily but found her at the weight bench to say that he would pick her and Danny up at seven-thirty. He was going to drive, because he didn’t want to drink enough to put himself over the limit, and he wanted his head clear. When Stevie told him that Danny was going on ahead, she thought he had looked slightly disappointed. But then again, Adam MacLean, Family Man, would have shoved Matthew’s nose a little further out of joint, she thought cynically. She hoped Danny wouldn’t be upset by seeing Jo and Matthew together but, as Catherine had said, she couldn’t hide it from him forever that life moved on.
At seven she heard a taxi beep and peeped through the upstairs window to see Matthew and Jo climbing into it. He was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else but on him, it looked fun and summery and his shoulders looked big and broad in it. She had on a white strappy sundress with incredibly high black sandals. The whole ensemble looked very simple, but stunning, and Stevie’s nerve took a bit of a nosedive. Then again, she knew there was nothing she could have done to look better than she did with what she had available. Stevie felt right. Right shade of lipstick, right shoes, right hairstyle. This was it: shit or bust, as her Auntie Rita used to say, pre-posh husband.
The Birds and the Bees Page 23