‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ Dee sniffed. ‘It’s business.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do.’ Dee picked up an enormous draft Will ready for its third revision. ‘Good heavens, look at the size of this. There are pages and pages of bequests here. It must be nice to have a fortune to leave people.’
‘That reminds me,’ said Chrissie, thinking of someone who most definitely didn’t have anything to leave anybody. ‘On my way back to the office, I saw Andrew.’
‘What did he want?’ Dee frowned.
‘For us to get back together. Oh, and five hundred pounds.’
‘Cheeky prat. I hope you told him his fortune.’
‘Yes. Speaking of fortunes, do you know if Amber has contacted Madam Rosa about us seeing her again?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Dee replied. ‘Let’s wait until she’s back in the office before we start making any more appointments with Madam Rosa.’
‘Sure. Right, look sharp. There’s a lot to get through this afternoon, and I don’t want to be late leaving here. Bluewater, and a new wardrobe, are awaiting me.’
‘Be warned. If you turn up at the office tomorrow wearing a figure-hugging power dress, Clive will be slobbering over you like a puppy.’
‘Oh give over!’ Chrissie made a tsking sound, and turned her attention to work. She definitely wouldn’t mind a certain someone slobbering over her – and she might see if she could catch his eye.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Once inside her apartment, Dee slipped off her coat and shoes. It had been a hectic day. In addition to her own work for Alan Mann, she’d had to help out both Steve Hood and Clive Derek.
Dee glanced at the console table in the hallway. It now held a stack of mail for Josh. The pile had steadily grown as the week progressed. On the advice of Harry, Dee had removed the postcard she’d lifted from Anne and Peter Coventry’s house.
‘Don’t alert your boyfriend to anything,’ Harry had advised. ‘The element of surprise is key when catching someone out.’ The postcard was now in a secret place.
Dee padded off to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Leaving it to slowly work its way to the boil, she went into the bathroom. Turning on the tub’s taps, she added some luxury bubble bath her mum had given her for Christmas. The flowery scent blended with clouds of steam, and she sniffed appreciatively. Leaving the bath to fill, she went back to the kitchen and made her cup of tea. She’d have her bath, then settle down in front of the telly with a microwave dinner. Tonight she would chillax with the hunky farmer boys from Emmerdale. Dee couldn’t decide who she liked most – gorgeous Ross Barton or that sexy bit of rough, Cain Dingle.
Taking the tea into the bathroom, she placed the mug carefully on the sink and then stripped off. Testing the foaming water with one foot, she decided the temperature was perfect. Picking up the tea, Dee sank down with a groan of ecstasy. She let the bubbles wash over her tummy as she slurped from the mug. Perfect. She was just taking another sip, when she froze. What was that noise? She sat up, mug of tea suspended, ears straining for clues. There it was again. Someone was outside the flat’s front door and jangling keys. Seconds later, Dee’s worst fears were confirmed as the flat’s door creaked back on its hinges. Damn. The bathroom door was wide open and here she was absolutely starkers in the bath!
‘Hello?’ called a familiar male voice.
Bugger. Dee hadn’t known how things would play out when Josh eventually came home, but one thing she had assumed was that when it did happen she would be prepared – as in fully-clothed, wearing make-up, and with newly washed hair, not open-pored from steam, or sporting smudged mascara, and most definitely not naked. She sank beneath the bubbles as Josh came into the bathroom.
‘Hi,’ he said, as if no drama between them had ever occurred.
‘Er, I’m not decent.’
‘You look pretty decent to me,’ he said, with a leer. His eyes flicked to the foam covering her body. She followed his gaze and was horrified to see her nipples poking out of the bubbles, like two twin satellite dishes. Dee grabbed a flannel and put it over her boobs. Why was Josh looking lustful, when only a week ago he’d said he didn’t fancy her?
‘I’m home,’ he said, grinning.
‘Nothing like stating the obvious,’ Dee replied. Her tone was indifferent, as if his absence and the upset he’d caused had been nothing more than a blip on the radar of Dee’s life – and a very insignificant blip at that.
‘Sorry about…well…you know.’ He gave a small shrug.
‘No, I don’t know.’ What was this? An apology for flying off to Tenerife for a week’s bonking with a woman called Emma?
Josh moved over to the toilet, put the lid down and perched. ‘The thing is I…I think I’ve been having…I mean was having…a mid-life crisis.’
‘You’re not yet thirty. Aren’t you rather young for one of those?
‘Well, better to get it over and done with, eh!’ Josh’s eyes locked on hers and he smiled. It was the sort of slow, sexy grin he used to give Dee in the old days. Back then it had turned her to mush. Right now, it was having zero effect. Josh noticed. He dropped the smile and moved smartly on. ‘The thing is, I’ve missed you. I needed time out from our relationship to…well…make sure we are the real deal.’
Dee couldn’t believe she was hearing this. She’d fully expected Josh to return home and demand they put the flat on the market. What was this? Sweet words of crap to pave the way for Josh sliding seamlessly back into their old life together? And how did Emma figure in all this? Dee mentally retrieved Josh’s postcard from its hiding place and re-read it.
‘Having a wonderful much-needed break from the Undomestic Dog-ess...
The cheeky sod.
Not looking forward to sorting things out once back…
In other words dumping Dee.
…blah blah… Emma. She can’t wait to meet you.
Yes, the new girlfriend had been waiting to meet Josh’s charmless mother and hen-pecked father. Anne and Peter Coventry must have known about this Emma woman ever since Josh had started his relationship with her – whenever that was. Dee didn’t need the likes of Harrison Hunter-Brown to point out that in the last couple of days – maybe even the last few hours – something had gone wrong between the lovebirds.
‘So the thing is, darling–’
‘Josh, sorry to interrupt, but could you take this, please?’ Dee held out the mug of tea. There was no way she could drink it lying horizontal in the bath while trying to keep her body covered by bubbles.
‘Of course.’ Josh sprang up and took the mug. ‘Would you like me to soap your back?’ he asked, a gleam in his eye.
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ He sat back down on the loo. ‘So, as I was saying, I’d like to start afresh.’
Dee looked at Josh in confusion. ‘Start afresh?’ Oh, hang on. Was this his way of saying, “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m replacing you with a woman called Emma. She has bigger tits than you, a better bum, and she isn’t an Undomesticated Dog-ess.” Dee could feel her lip curling.
‘Yes, start afresh,’ Josh repeated. ‘I want to put our little misunderstanding behind us, and forget it ever happened.’
‘What exactly did happen?’ asked Dee carefully. As far as she was concerned, she’d had a boyfriend who’d become increasingly distant with her for no fathomable reason. When she’d tried to reignite his interest, it had backfired spectacularly. So much so, Josh had packed a bag and jetted out of the country.
‘Well…um…like I said…I had a bit of a mid-life crisis.’
‘Define “mid-life crisis”,’ she said in a cold voice.
‘Just…just doubting everything.’
‘As in doubting us?’
‘Yes,’ Josh nodded, ‘that’s it, as in wondering if,’ his brow furrowed with concentration, ‘making sure we were absolutely right for each other.’
‘You mean,’ Dee feigned puzzlement, ‘in case the
re might be somebody else out there who was more suited?’
Josh blanched. Dee could see the thought processes going on in his head. He was easier to read than a child’s early learning book. For a moment he looked anxious, fretting that he might have showed his hand regarding Emma. ‘N-no,’ he stuttered, ‘I always thought you were the right woman for me, Dee.’
‘So why the need to disappear for a week?’
‘Just to…you know…be absolutely sure you’re still the right woman for me,’ he finished lamely. ‘Which you are.’
Dee glared at him. ‘Your skin has a lovely colour.’
‘Yeah,’ said Josh, his eyes slithering away. ‘Getting a tan is one of the perks of window cleaning and being outdoors.’
‘It’s January.’
‘It’s wind burn.’
‘It’s bollocks.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You heard me. Where have you really been, Josh?’
‘At my mum and dad’s.’
‘Strange. You weren’t there when I went round to see you.’
‘I was at work.’
‘Not according to your charming mother,’ Dee smiled sweetly, and was pleased to note Josh’s Adam’s apple yo-yo nervously up and down his windpipe. ‘Your mother spoke to me like a Rottweiler on amphetamines. She said you’d gone away to have a good rest from me, and that if you had any sense you wouldn’t come back – from Tenerife,’ she added. The last two words were a bluff. Anne Coventry had said no such thing, but a spiteful part of Dee wanted to drop Anne in it for the way she’d treated her.
‘Ha ha ha,’ Josh attempted laughing. ‘Good old Mum. She does like a joke.’
‘Nobody was laughing.’
‘Take no notice of her, Dee. She’s old. She’s probably starting dementia.’
‘Must run in the family then, eh?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You seem to have total amnesia about how you got your sun tan.’
‘Look, why don’t you finish having your bath and we’ll go out to dinner. I’ll order a bottle of bubbly, and we’ll have a proper talk. Cards on the table.’
Dee was brought up short. Cards on the table. Her mind zoomed back to last Saturday’s reading with Madam Rosa, selecting tarot cards that had been strewn across the clairvoyant’s occasional table. A major shake-up, Madam Rosa had said, and the ending of a long-term relationship. But right now, it sounded like Josh wanted to make major amends – which was contradictory to the card reading. In which case, had Madam Rosa got it all wrong?
Chapter Forty
Amber’s Monday had been…peculiar. At her boss’s insistence, she’d gone home to bed. Mr Tomkin had already claimed some of the duvet, and was curled in a tight ball.
‘All you ever do is sleep,’ Amber grumbled to the cat. He looked at her with half-closed eyes, his purrs punctuated by funny brrrrrppp noises. Amber mimicked the sound and the cat rolled on his back, paddling his paws in the air. Whatever brrrrrppp meant, it was obviously a good word in cat language. Amber copied him and laid back. ‘Oh, to be a cat,’ she murmured. ‘All you have to worry about is sleeping, eating, hunting, and then repeat.’ She hadn’t taken her coat off, but would do so in a minute. She needed to close her eyes, only for a second or two.
Five hours later Amber awoke with a start. Sitting up, she yawned and started to stretch, but found herself confined by her winter coat. Shrugging it off, she shivered. Outside, grey winter daylight cast gloomy shadows over the bedroom walls. Struggling to her feet, she moved across to the landing and ramped up the temperature on the heating thermostat. She felt so cold. But then again, she’d been feeling cold ever since evicting Matthew. Her thoughts strayed to Chrissie and Dee. She felt dreadful that Steve had sent her home when her two besties were also having a rubbish time. Feeling guilty, Amber picked up the phone and telephoned Dee’s mobile. It went to voicemail. She tried again, this time ringing Dee’s personal landline at Hood, Mann & Derek.
‘Alan Mann’s office, can I help you?’
‘Dee, it’s me.’ Was it Amber’s imagination, or had there been a very long pause? ‘Are you there?’
‘Hi…um…can’t stop, Amber. Really busy.’
‘Yeah, I thought you would be. Listen, I’m so sorry you were left with all my work. I shouldn’t have listened to Steve. I feel terr–’
‘No worries. Must dash. Need to get the post signed.’ Dee had hung up.
Undeterred, Amber then phoned Chrissie who gave her virtually the same response. Amber began to feel anxious. Were her besties furious she’d wimped off leaving them up to their eyeballs in leases? What Amber couldn’t have known was that both Chrissie and Dee didn’t want to talk to her until Steve had spoken to her. The last thing they wanted was being boxed into a metaphorical corner by Amber’s relentless questions once she put two and two together, and realised everyone was behaving rather weirdly.
As Amber slowly put her phone down, she decided to take cakes into the office tomorrow as a “sorry” present for her friends. With that thought in mind, she turned her attention to getting ready for dinner with her boss.
***
Amber stood back from her bedroom mirror to critically study the “overall effect”. Ironically, her skin was glowing like somebody who’d overdosed on happiness. In fact, the rosiness was simply down to lingering in a hot bubble bath. She’d piled her hair into a messy bun and tendrils fell in loose curls around her face. Her make-up was flawless, which was a miracle considering her hands had trembled like Mr Tomkin having his annual booster at the vet’s. As she threaded some dangly earrings through her earlobes, Amber reminded herself this wasn’t a date. So why was she feeling so nervous? It was basically a meeting with her boss – dinner just happened to feature. This was Steve for goodness sake! The man she bantered with in office hours, and who gave as good as he got in return. He’d made it quite clear there were things she needed to know, and that he wanted to be the one to tell her. For the life of her, Amber hadn’t a clue what Steve had meant by that. And then she groaned as a thought occurred. Oh no. It had to be redundancy. Steve wanted to give her the heads up away from the likes of young Jessica in Accounts who made office gossip her personal business. Grrrrreat. That was all she needed. First boyfriendless, and soon jobless – not good when there was a mortgage to pay.
Mr Tomkin weaved around her ankles asking politely if his mistress could possibly stop preening in front of the mirror and sort out his tea, and if there was any more fillet steak going begging, that really would be rather splendid.
‘I know exactly what you’re thinking,’ said Amber to the cat. ‘If I get made redundant, the pair of us will be eating nothing but beans on toast until I find another job.’ And then Amber chided herself for not only talking to her cat, but also imagining that her cat had been talking to her. She was losing the plot. This break-up with Matthew had literally pushed her to the edge of having a nervous breakdown. She rammed her feet into some stilettoes and grabbed her coat. ‘Come on,’ said Amber to Mr Tomkin. ‘Let’s go to the kitchen and I will feed you. But be warned. Your saucer will contain supermarket tinned meat. Not steak. And yes, I know I’m talking to you again as if you’re a human being, but unfortunately your mistress isn’t quite the full ticket at the moment.’ Mr Tomkin meowed by way of answer and bounced ahead of Amber, his ginger tail ramrod straight as he scampered down the stairs.
Amber was forking whiffy cat food into a bowl when the doorbell rang. As she set the dish before Mr Tomkin, she noticed her hands were shaking again. ‘Steve’s here,’ she told the cat. ‘Don’t wait up for me. Well actually, do wait up for me. I mean, it’s not like there’s going to be any romance or…oh, listen to me burbling again.’ She was definitely losing it. ‘See you later, darling.’ Stooping down to give the cat a quick rub on the head, she hastened off to answer the door.
‘Hi,’ said Steve. He gave her a business-like smile.
‘Hi yourself,’ said Amber, deliberately sounding like she did at work when Stev
e summoned her into the office to present a tedious pile of agreements. Amber hoped her bored attitude hid the excitement spiralling up from the pit of her stomach. He’s not gay, sang a little voice in her head. So what? sneered another. He wasn’t interested in you before, so he’s not going to be interested now.
‘Your house isn’t the easiest to find,’ said Steve, as Amber locked up. ‘This place is like a maze with all these little footpaths criss-crossing everywhere. Don’t you ever get lost?’
Amber laughed as she slipped the house key into her handbag. ‘I did once. It was shortly after I’d moved in. I went to the next row of houses by mistake. They all look identical. I spent ages jiggling my key in the lock. Eventually the door was opened by a harassed young mum with several kids hanging off the hem of her skirt. Fortunately, she saw the funny side. She’s a really nice neighbour. I know a lot of people around here. They’re good sorts.’
‘That’s nice,’ said Steve, taking her elbow and guiding her along the footpath to the road. Despite it being lit by courtesy lights, the night was inky black. Amber wasn’t quite sure who was leading who to the car. Steve’s touch was sending tingles up and down her spine. She didn’t kid herself that it was anything more than chivalry on his part. He opened the passenger door for her, which she liked. Mental note to self: make sure next boyfriend is chivalrous, guides you on dark nights and opens car doors.
‘The car will soon warm up,’ said Steve, as the engine turned over. He indicated right, gave way to a passing vehicle, and seconds later they were cruising along the main road. ‘Feeling hungry?’
‘As it happens, yes. I’ve not eaten all day.’
‘Why not?’
‘I crashed out. Literally. For hours.’
‘You must have needed the rest. How are you feeling now?’
‘Honestly? Still ridiculously tired.’
‘Break-ups are exhausting,’ Steve acknowledged.
‘Even so, you shouldn’t have sent me home. I’ve behaved like a lightweight.’
The Woman Who Knew Everything Page 22