‘It’s not funny,’ I said, sniffing back the tears, my stomach churning with the enormity of the situation.
‘No, darling, it’s not funny at all,’ she spluttered and we fell into each other’s arms, our whole bodies shaking with laughter.
‘You’re cross with me, aren’t you?’
It was later the same day and after a few tumultuous hours spent round at Lexie’s, alternating between fits of laughter and bouts of tears, I was back at home attacking the ironing with a ferocity borne of complete muddle-headedness.
‘What?’ I flapped a work blouse in the air and fitted it across the board, the steam hissing from the iron matching my mood. Jimmy was sprawled across the sofa surrounded by newspapers, coffee mugs and chocolate wrappers.
‘You! Call me sensitive, but I think you’ve got the hump with me. Big time.’
I shook my head, grabbing a skirt from the basket.
‘No, Jimmy, I’m not cross with you, I’m just…’
Well, what could I tell him? That my sister thought he was the love of my life and we’d been destined to spend the rest of our time together?
It sounded completely ridiculous, but no more ridiculous than Jimmy’s theory about Donna. We’d been to see her and still there was no sign of Jimmy moving across. The world still thought Jimmy was the father of her baby and I was only too willing to believe that Jimmy was the love of my life. It was hopeless. There were no answers, only more and more questions.
Jimmy had gone and ruined everything by carelessly spinning his car off the road. How thoughtless of him. And where exactly do you begin with a conversation like that? Especially with Jimmy’s reaction to consider too. Would he laugh heartily, throw back his head and snort with derision? Or would he scoop me up in his arms, lay me on the bed and make sweet, sweet love to me?
There was so much living and loving to do and yet I’d fallen in love with a dead man. Sadness washed over me. I used to pride myself on my cool and collected thinking, but these days my head was all over the place.
‘Look, I know I shouldn’t have hit him. That was out of order.’ He held up his hands to me looking suitably repentant. ‘But I couldn’t help myself. I was worried for you. I thought… well… when he put his hands all over your body like that… I just saw red… and… I’m sorry. Not that I hit him, but that you’re upset.’
I sighed. Last night, all the kerfuffle with Barney, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
‘The thought of that slimy toe-rag taking advantage of you, well it was too much to bear.’ He jumped up, swinging his long legs over the side of the sofa and took my hands from across the ironing board. ‘I’m really sorry, Alice. I know I shouldn’t have let it get to me like that. Am I forgiven? Please?’
I had no chance of staying annoyed with Jimmy for any longer than a few nanoseconds. The softness of his gaze upon my face, the tilt of his head and the corners of his mouth twitching in anticipation of that broad grin were enough for me to forgive him anything. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
‘Well, you can’t keep stepping into my life and sorting out my problems for me. I mean, what would I have done if you hadn’t been around?’
‘My point exactly!’
‘Jimmy, stop it. You’re not my guardian angel. Soon you’ll be on your way and then I’ll have to sort things out on my own.’
‘Hmm, I suppose. Although I’d like to be able to look after you forever. Maybe when I get to the Main Place, I’ll drop in at Heavenly Resources and see if there are any vacancies for guardian angels. Then I can spend the rest of eternity looking out for you. I like the sound of that.’ His fingers touched my cheek as his eyes smiled at me, drawing me in as they always did.
I laughed, shaking my head, my insides melting at the thought of Jimmy being forever at my side.
‘All right, all right, you’re forgiven.’ I folded the last remaining item in the pile and flicked off the switch. ‘Is it too early for a glass of something?’ I said, looking at my watch. There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn’t know where to begin. The idea of him looking after me forever was hugely romantic, but the suggestion felt like an unexpected body blow. It would never happen. Jimmy was just passing through.
‘Thanks,’ I said, gladly accepting the glass of Sauvignon Blanc he was offering, taking a welcome sip. ‘How did you know I was in trouble then?’ Jimmy had the knack of turning up at exactly the right moment, or the wrong one, depending on how you looked at it. ‘Are you constantly hovering around taking note of everything that’s going on?’
He shrugged and smiled.
‘I know I’m awesome, but I’m not that awesome.’ His expression became serious. ‘It’s a feeling I get, Alice. Something that comes over me. I just know, in here,’ he said, banging his chest with his fist, ‘when you’re anxious or afraid and then I have to come and see what I can do to help.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’ He nodded ruefully. ‘And I’m sorry if I overstep the mark at times, but I promise you I’m not some kind of spectral stalker, watching your every move from the shadows.’
I made a big show of shivering exaggeratedly.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ I said, joining him back down on the sofa with my glass of wine.
‘Although that’s not to say the temptation hasn’t been there.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I elbowed him in the ribs as he shifted himself closer to me on the sofa.
‘Well, let’s just say that a less than honourable heavenly being than myself might take advantage of their elevated position using it to intrude on those special intimate moments, but obviously that’s not something I would ever consider.’
I looked at him through narrowed eyes.
‘You’d better not,’ I said.
‘Of course I wouldn’t.’ He laughed, looking as though he just might. ‘I only hope you don’t get into too much trouble at work because of my behaviour last night.’ He picked up the remote control and pointed it at the telly. The familiar soothing opening bars to Lewis wafted over us. It wasn’t too much of a leap of the imagination to think that we were like any other couple enjoying a night in front of the telly.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ I said, settling comfortably back into the sofa and into Jimmy’s arms, feeling anything was possible with him at my side, ‘I’m sure it won’t be anything I can’t handle.’
Chapter Eighteen
And really, it wasn’t, although my popularity ranking had risen twentyfold by Monday morning and I had a whole succession of casual visitors at my desk wanting the lowdown on what exactly had gone on between Barney and me on the night of the auction, but I batted each of them away.
‘So, did you go back to his place after the ball?’
‘No, I most certainly didn’t!’
‘Do you think Barney’s an alcoholic?’
‘No.’
‘So why did he end up sprawled on the floor?’
‘It was an unfortunate accident.’
‘Did he make a pass at you?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think he’s a sex addict?’
‘How the hell would I know?’
‘Do you like Barney?’
‘I think he did an excellent job as auctioneer.’
‘Do you think Barney will sue us?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think the company will sue Barney?’
‘Of course not.’
I’d already taken a telephone call from Barney’s agent first thing to say that in the event of any members of the press making enquiries about his client’s attendance at the Charity Ball then we were to keep shtum and refer them to him. I quickly confirmed that our discretion was assured and fired off an email to the relevant departments to the same effect. Barney Roberts and his entourage clearly didn’t want any bad publicity, but then again neither did Merron Enterprises.
I penned a handwritten note to Barney thanking him for his sterling job, after all he
had helped raise in excess of £20,000 for our charities and that’s what he’d been hired for, and sent him a huge bouquet of flowers for his efforts. I was hoping that would be an end to the matter.
My tummy grumbling in protest at the lack of breakfast, I glanced at my watch and decided to pop out at lunchtime for a walk and a sandwich. I’d just picked up my jacket when the phone buzzed into action again.
‘Alice, it’s reception here. There’s a Miss Smith to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but is very insistent that she sees you. She says it’s important.’
Sighing, I slipped my jacket off my shoulders and hung it back on the coat stand. A journalist, I didn’t doubt, with the scent of a juicy story wafting beneath her nostrils. Who, I wondered, had tipped her off?
‘Tell her I’m busy.’ I drummed my fingernails on the desk. ‘Could you give her my card and ask her to contact me by email or telephone to make an appointment?’
Debbie lowered her voice to a whisper at the other end of the telephone.
‘I’ve already tried that, but she’s refusing to leave. She says she’s happy to wait until you’re free. I’ve explained it could be some time.’ The frustration in Debbie’s voice wafted down the line. Our most experienced receptionist, she’d been with the company for years and was used to dealing with all sorts of people and situations. Obviously this visitor was being particularly troublesome. ‘I’ve asked if she would like to speak to someone else, maybe the Press Office, but she’s adamant that she talks to you.’
‘OK,’ I sighed. ‘Ask her to take a seat, I’ll be down in a moment.’
I scrabbled around on the desk and found the piece of paper with the telephone number of Barney’s agent. Whatever information Miss Smith thought she was sitting on was not going to be confirmed by me that was for sure. But how exactly had this woman got hold of my name? It had to be one of my so-called friends or colleagues from the ball the other night.
Downstairs, I walked through the double doors that led into reception, breathing in sharply and marched across to the plush leather sofas. I took one look at the pitiful creature dressed in a grey tracksuit who was sitting huddled on one end of the sofa, examining the backs of her hands and faltered. This couldn’t be the hard-nosed journalist I was expecting, surely? I turned to the reception desk and Debbie answered my unasked question with a nod and a shrug.
‘Miss Smith?’ I said, brightly.
She was no more than a girl with mousey hair and a smattering of freckles yet her features were strangely familiar.
‘Oh, Alice, hi, thanks so much for seeing me.’ Her face lit up, but even her welcoming smile couldn’t mask the exhaustion in her eyes. ‘Sorry just turning up like this. I did try phoning, but… well, I’ve never been very good on the phone.’
‘Donna?’ I stuttered. The voice, much less assertive than when I’d last heard it was unmistakable, although the unkempt hair and blotchy complexion made her completely unrecognisable from the blonde bombshell I’d met in the club that night. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t realise it was you.’
She gave a wry smile.
‘That was the general idea.’ She ran a hand through her lacklustre hair and I noticed her fingernails were bitten ragged. ‘I left the wig at home.’
I tried to hide my gasp of surprise. She looked so different, much more ordinary without all the bling, yet still so pretty in a completely washed-out and weary manner. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
‘Shall we go and grab a coffee?’ I suggested.
‘Um, I’d rather not. You know, just in case someone spots me looking like this. Is there somewhere else we can go here, somewhere more private?’ The brashness that had been so apparent in the nightclub had been replaced by a beguiling softness.
‘Yes, yes, of course. Hang on a minute.’ I got up and walked over to Debbie who’d been watching us the whole time from behind her desk. ‘Is there a meeting room free?’
‘Um… room 2B on the ground floor?’
‘Great. Could you book it out for me please? And arrange some coffee and sandwiches?’
Debbie was already busy tapping into her keyboard.
‘I’ll get straight onto it,’ she said.
‘Come on,’ I said to Donna, ‘follow me.’
No sooner had we closed the door of the meeting room and settled ourselves into our chairs, Donna turned to me.
‘I wanted to apologise. For the other night.’ She undid the zip on her hoodie, displaying her burgeoning bump and settled into her chair, immediately looking more relaxed. ‘It was just such a shock, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting it.’
‘Yes, I suppose it must have been. And I’m sorry for hijacking you like that when you were on a night out, but it was the only way we could think of getting to meet you. And my sister Lexie can be a bit over-enthusiastic at times.’ I paused. ‘How’s it going?’ I asked, nodding towards her tummy.
‘Oh fine,’ she said, her face lighting up. ‘I’ve just about got used to the idea now and at least the sickness has stopped. I know I look a wreck, but actually I’m feeling a lot better than I’ve done in weeks.’ She paused, dropping her gaze to the floor. ‘It’s been a difficult time.’
Just then there was a knock at the door and Debbie appeared bearing a tray.
‘Many thanks, just leave it on the table here. Coffee?’ I offered to Donna, picking up the flask and pouring the piping-hot liquid.
‘Thanks. And I’ll have a couple of sandwiches if you don’t mind.’ She helped herself to a handful, piling them on her plate. ‘I’ve been absolutely ravenous ever since I became pregnant. Talk about eating for two. I think I’m eating for an entire rugby team.’
I laughed, still trying to reconcile the two completely disparate images of Donna that were jostling for position in my head. There was no sign of the meticulously groomed, hard-edged career girl who would do anything to get herself into the limelight who I’d seen a glimpse of the other week, in the young woman who sat in front of me now.
‘I suppose you know why I’m here?’ she said, between mouthfuls of an egg and cress sandwich.
I shook my head. To be honest, I hadn’t given it any thought. I’d been so keyed up about having to deal with some awkward questions from a newspaper hack that coming face to face with Donna’s alter ego had been at first a shock and then a relief.
‘I did a lot of thinking after that night,’ she began. ‘You really brought things home to me. About the baby and what… and what I’ve done.’ Her shoulders slumped and tears gathered in her eyes. She stood up, brushing crumbs away from her bump, before sitting back down again. ‘How could I have been so stupid?
I shook my head in response.
‘I don’t know what possessed me to come up with the whole thing in the first place. It just seemed like a good idea. And, of course, as soon as I mentioned Jimmy’s name, the tabloids were over me like a rash. And then, well, I was in far too deep. I couldn’t get out of it.’
It was almost too much to believe that Donna was sitting in front of me confessing that Jimmy wasn’t the father of her child, after all. I felt like punching the air with my fist. Wait until I tell Lexie, I thought excitedly. And what about, Jimmy? Was he hovering about us, doing a ghostly jig?
‘So, um, do you know who the father is?’
She lifted her eyes to me and the laser-like glare of Donna Diamond, the celebrity, bore down on me.
‘Of course I know who the father is! Everyone has this impression of me, that I’m a real slapper, but I promise you, I’m not.’ She shook her head, smiling wryly. ‘I’ve been with my boyfriend Tony for years. He’s a doorman at Marko’s. And then we split up just before I found out I was pregnant and I didn’t know what to do, how I would ever cope alone. I didn’t dare tell Tony. I thought he wouldn’t want to know me. That I’d deliberately trapped him. He always said he never wanted children.’ She shrugged, as if she could barely make sense of it all herself. ‘I’m really sorry about Jimmy. You know, him being a
friend of yours and everything. It must have been awful reading those things about him.’ She dropped her gaze, looking apologetic. ‘I met him once.’
‘Did you?’ Of course, I knew they’d met. Jimmy had told me all about it, but now I wanted to hear it from her side.
‘Not long before he died. At a black tie function. He seemed really nice. A proper gentleman. Most men look at me in a certain way. But not Jimmy. He wasn’t interested in me in that way at all. I thought then what a lovely husband and dad he’d make. You were lucky to have him as your friend.’
‘Yeah,’ I said wistfully. ‘I think he may be the best friend I’ve ever had.’
She tilted her head to one side, a questioning expression on her face.
‘I mean I was lucky to have him as a friend.’ I cupped my hands around my coffee cup. ‘I haven’t really got used to him not being around any more.’
‘Yeah, it must be hard. Were you like a proper couple, together?’
‘No, not in that way. Although…’ I sighed, my gaze shifting to the window. Although what? We were just building up to it? We would have been together if he hadn’t gone and got himself killed? I could hardly tell that to Donna.
‘Ah, that’s a shame.’ Her face shone with sincerity. ‘I think you would have made a really lovely couple.’
‘Thanks.’ I poured us another cup of coffee, feeling a flush of heat to my cheeks. Hurriedly, I changed the subject. ‘So what did Tony say when you finally told him?’
‘Well, I didn’t, that was the thing. He read about it in the papers and he was furious, absolutely furious. Wanted to go round there and then and knock Jimmy’s lights out, but obviously it was too late for that. Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, quickly realising what she’d said.
‘No, don’t worry, it’s OK.’
She combed her hands through her hair. Her every move was accentuated with weariness.
‘It was awful, really bad. I had to convince Tony that I hadn’t slept with Jimmy and we had lots of rows and sleepless nights over it all, but I think,’ she held her crossed fingers up in the air, ‘that we’ve sorted things out now.’
Desperately Seeking Heaven Page 14