Jeremy nodded through the open driver’s side window. ‘Donna,’ he said, looking her up and down as if he’d encountered a bad smell. ‘Had a bit of an accident, haven’t we?’ He looked past her to her cremated car.
Yes, I married you, Donna resisted saying for the sake of their son. ‘Did you want something?’ she asked, as civilly as she could.
‘Yes, I did, as it happens. I came to drop off some cash for Matt.’
Donna glanced over her shoulder at Matt, who duly raised one pierced eyebrow, bemused.
‘Can’t stop, unfortunately,’ Jeremy came out with his stock phrase. Sticking around long enough to exchange two words with his son was too much to hope for, Donna supposed.
She looked over her shoulder again. Matt’s expression as he turned to slope back indoors told her he hadn’t hoped for much more either.
‘We have to shift one of Leticia’s horses up to the stud at Feckenham,’ Jeremy went on snootily. ‘Hunter. Good breeding stock, you know? Then I have to get back to the office. Make some money to pay the bills and whatnot. A man’s work is never done.’ He smiled stoically.
Donna fumed quietly. He wouldn’t have to work very hard to pay his child support payments, which fluctuated between meagre and non-existent. ‘The whatnot being your new car?’ She speculated.
Jeremy sighed wearily. ‘It’s Leticia’s, Donna. Mine’s in for a service.’
Yes, and Donna would bet he could afford to pay for his service, too.
‘I did stop by last night, but I saw you had company,’ Jeremy informed her, with a pointed glance.
Damn. He must have seen Mark dropping her off. The last thing Donna wanted was Jeremy privy to her private affairs. He’d use that as ammunition for facetious remarks for sure.
‘Bit desperate, wasn’t it, setting fire to your car to attract the attention of a man?’ he dripped on cue.
‘One would have to wonder why I’d be that desperate though, Jeremy, wouldn’t one?’ Donna countered calmly.
Jeremy smirked. ‘I hope you gave him his jacket back. Not quite proper attire, is it, for an officer of the law, shirtsleeves?’
Donna folded her arms. So he’d hung around long enough to get a good look, then? At Mark gathering up Findus as he hopped through the open front door in his bid for the great escape. Handing him gently over to Donna and then kissing her tenderly, reassuringly on the forehead, before dashing off to go back on duty? ‘I thought you had to go,’ she said, her gaze fixed stonily on his.
‘I do,’ Jeremy said, chuckling away, apparently still amused by his wit. ‘Here you go.’ He reached for his wallet and extracted his conscience money. ‘I’m sure Matt would prefer not to have his dad tagging along while he shops for his cool trainers in reality, don’t you?’
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you try asking him?’
Jeremy’s brow creased. The Twiglet’s face remained bland, but she did at least try. ‘Do you want to pop in and have a word, darling?’ she suggested. ‘I mean you are here, after all. I’m sure my groom will be able to get Black Rum boxed and ready for the orf.’
‘Don’t bother yourself. Matt’s about to leave anyway.’ Donna offered him a get-out, knowing Jeremy looking for reasons to leave as soon as he’d walked in would only make matters worse. ‘I’ll pass him your regards along with the money though.’
She held out her hand.
‘Yes, do that.’ Jeremy passed over the cash with that awkward little smile of his that said he knew damn well what he was doing.
‘Thank you,’ Donna said icily, making sure to stand tall. ‘Goodbye, Jeremy. Leticia.’ She nodded at Leticia, glad the woman had at least acknowledged that Jeremy had a son.
****
Donna had always thought living in a cul-de-sac was akin to living in a goldfish bowl. Her life was a soap opera on free-view to the world. She’d noticed a distinct twitching of curtains opposite as Jeremy drove off. She couldn’t fail to notice the knowing looks and gossip on doorsteps, which stopped abruptly whenever single parent Donna walked by.
It was as if they were waiting for her to trip up, which inevitably she did, spectacularly rolling from disaster to disaster. Or, in this case, one disastrous relationship to another, which it was bound to be if she fell into one with Mark.
Was she really proposing to go down that road again? Get intimate enough with a man for him to turn around and say, I know you, Donna?
She would see Mark tonight, she decided, sifting through her melted CDs for something to do until she could get her emotions back under control. She wanted to, and not out of any sense of obligation because he’d been so caring. But she would have to spell out to him that no complications meant just that, for now.
Donna sniffled, set the CDs aside, and then got busy sweeping at shards of glass and globules of blackened gunk that had landed on the drive along with the car deposited there by the breakdown man.
‘Mum!’ Matt poked his head back around the front door. ‘There’s some bloke on the phone.’
‘Oh, right,’ Donna said casually, dusting herself off, despite the fact that Mark couldn’t actually see her.
‘I’ve washed my combats,’ Matt announced proudly, as Donna walked back to the house.
‘My God, you don’t mean you’ve discovered the kitchen?’ She blinked, astonished, sure her son must be gripped by some strange malady. ‘What did you do? Use satnav?’
‘Nah. Just shouted choccy drops and followed Sadie,’ Matt quipped. ‘So, how do I get them dry?’
‘You put them in the oven, Matt, obviously.’ Donna rolled her eyes, but smiled nevertheless. She was glad he seemed to be bouncing back, though she couldn’t help thinking it was a bit of a front.
‘Good idea.’ Matt headed back inside.
‘Switch it to high heat, for forty minutes,’ Donna called after him, aware that these were his cool trousers, in which he hoped to impress his “crush” tonight. Matt was making an effort to help out, bless his socks, but the tumble dryer, she suspected, might be a kitchen implement too complicated. ‘Oh, and Matt…’
‘Huh?’ Matt turned back.
‘I’m sorry about your dad.’
He smiled wanly. ‘Not half as sorry as I am.’
****
Mark selected Donna’s number and switched to hands-free. ‘Hi, it’s me,’ he said, when she picked up. ‘Have you got a sec?’
‘Yes, as long as it’s a quickie,’ Donna quipped, sounding quite cheerful, despite the previous night’s events, which made Mark feel bad. He wasn’t sure how she felt about him, but she’d seemed keen to see him when he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask her out again last night. The last thing he wanted to do, if she was warming to him, was to put her off. But then, he had no choice. On this occasion, Karl’s needs had to come first.
‘Love to oblige,’ Mark joked, taking a left off the main road towards the city hospital. ‘It’s just that I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it tonight. Can we postpone until tomorrow, possibly?’
‘Oh,’ Donna said, now sounding distinctly flat. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll have to find out whether Matt will be home. It’s a bit soon for introductions, you know?’
‘Of course. No problem. I’ll call you back later. I’d better go. I’m on dut…’
‘Unless I come to your place, of course.’
Shit. Mark ran his hand over his neck. ‘No, no good,’ he said quickly, wracking his brain to think of an excuse. ‘I have a lodger, a work colleague. He works the late shift. Needs his beauty sleep, you know?’
‘Oh,’ she said again.
‘So, can I call you?’
‘All right,’ Donna said, at length. ‘Later though. I’m at work.’
Mark breathed out. ‘Great. Gotta go. Catch you later.’
He signed off, relieved and full of trepidation at the same time. A small cut but quite deep, the respite home had said. Mark wasn’t surprised. Getting Karl to keep his shoes on was a struggle, indoors or out, especially if th
ey were new. No matter how much Mark scuffed them before putting them on him, they still looked unfamiliar, so off they came again.
He parked outside the main doors, killed the engine and headed quickly into Casualty. With luck, Michelle would be on duty and help him short-circuit the system. It was handy having a girl-friend who was a doctor and understood the problems of having an autistic son, even if she didn’t want to deal with those problems on a personal basis.
He couldn’t blame her. Would any woman?
Would Donna? Or would she walk away when he told her, which he was going to have to do when he saw her, whatever the outcome?
****
‘Donna, you’re being paranoid,’ Simon assured her, popping a mug of tea on Donna’s desk. ‘The man’s a policeman. Something obviously came up.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Donna asked, typing at warp speed as she worried. Jean was otherwise engaged with the chief executive, going through the staff rota, which they’d been going through for rather a long time, meaning Jean’s workload had landed on Donna’s desk.
‘Donna,’ Simon sighed, with a theatrical roll of his eyes, ‘you made the rules,’ he reminded her of what she’d told him vis-à-vis her no complications stipulation, then dunked a chocolate biscuit. ‘From where I’m sitting, it looks as if your Adonis is just following them.’
Donna knitted her brow. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, I assume if you cancelled, you’d expect him to ask no questions but be ready and primed when you did meet, yes?’
Donna flushed and typed faster.
‘So give him the benefit of the doubt. If he doesn’t call back, you can assume he’s lost interest and you won’t have lost anything, will you?’
Donna stopped typing and swallowed hard.
‘If he does, you’ll have your answer. So smile when you see him, wear nothing but the merest wisp of lace,’ Simon paused to indulge a lick of melted chocolate, ‘take him to bed and enjoy, sweetie. It will do wonders for your complexion.’
Donna’s complexion was feeling distinctly heated, actually. ‘Um, we haven’t actually got that far…’
‘Then get on with it,’ Jean interrupted her, appearing behind Simon, who promptly stuffed his biscuit wholesale into his mouth. ‘But it’s probably best done and discussed in your own time, Donna, don’t you think?’ She shot Donna a meaningful glance, which translated read: You’re on thin ice. Watch your step.
‘Bitch,’ Simon mouthed to Donna, followed by, ‘Sorry, Dons.’
Donna smiled wanly. Oh, dear, looked as if her card was well and truly marked. She could type until she’d worn her fingernails up to her elbows, but Jean, she suspected, wasn’t about to write her a glowing reference to back up her application for training.
****
Donna was walking back from the train station with Alicia when she saw him. Alicia had decided retail therapy was called for after Donna’s traumatic events with her car. So they’d met up along with Matt in Worcester and shopped until they were ready to drop. Matt had got his new ice-cool trainers, and then headed back home to bathe in aftershave and make himself into a babe magnet for the nightclub.
Alicia had purchased the entire Next new season collection, and Donna had splurged the birthday money their mum had given her on a new, slightly risqué bra and panty set, and was now blanching at the thought of Mark possibly seeing her in it.
What had she been thinking, allowing Alicia to talk her into showing off her assets? She hadn’t got any assets. Alicia had been first in that filial queue. And whilst the lacy lingerie might adequately cover her ‘bits’, they wouldn’t be covering her more embarrassing bits. The only hope she had of that would be to wear pyjamas buttoned up to her skull.
‘Donna, did you know there’s a policeman outside your house?’ Alicia interrupted her ponderings, nodding over her two-year-old son Jack’s pushchair as she clacked alongside Donna in peep-toe ankle boots.
‘Um, yes, actually,’ Donna said casually, though her heart did a little Highland fling in her chest. He’d come, after all. She was so pleased, she forgot to be peeved that Matt might still have been in and seen him. ‘Well, sort of,’ she added with a nonchalant shrug, as if good-looking coppers beating a path to her door was an everyday occurrence.
Alicia stopped in her tracks, one eyebrow arched curiously. ‘Donna O’Connor, you dark horse, you. That’s him, isn’t it, your sex-toy-in-blue?’
‘Alicia! Shush!’
‘Oh, he can’t hear me from here. So, tell me,’ Alicia went on, pushing her chocolate-coated toddler purposefully onwards. ‘How many marks out of ten?’
‘Alicia!’
‘Nine and a half, I bet. Oh, honey, I can see what the attraction is, apart from the uniform, of course.’ She waggled her eyebrows and clacked on. ‘He is hot.’
So was Donna. Her cheeks must look like a set of blooming brake lights. ‘Alicia, shut up,’ she hissed, glancing down at her passé trainers. ‘He will hear in a minute, and then he’ll know we’ve been talking about him.’
‘What’s not to talk about?’ Alicia looked Mark appreciatively over. ‘If I were you, I couldn’t not talk about him. I certainly wouldn’t be keeping him under wraps.’
Alicia stopped again, flicking back her naturally sun-flecked golden tresses as Mark stepped back from Donna’s front door to glance in their direction.
‘Definitely hot,’ Alicia said out of the side of her mouth, then flashed him an ultra-white smile.
‘Yes,’ Donna said, trying to fix her own smile in place, but feeling like an ugly duckling next to a swan in Alicia’s presence. Pluck and preen as much as she might, Donna could never hope to compete for a man’s attention side-by-side with her sister. She sighed and tried not to mind that Mark would be bound to look at Alicia and like what he saw.
‘Hi,’ Donna greeted him as he walked towards them. He was quite hot, now she came to think about it. Not that she had, more than once… or thrice.
‘Hi,’ he said, stopping a step away, his mouth curving into his lovely smile and a breath-taking twinkle in his eyes… which were fixed firmly on Donna.
She waited for them to stray to Alicia, who’d turn heads dressed in a sack. They didn’t. He kept looking at Donna.
‘Well, this is nice,’ Alicia said brightly, several silent seconds later. Donna could almost feel her curious gaze flicking back and forth between them. ‘I’m Alicia, Donna’s sister. And you must be?’
Donna’s gaze was locked firmly on Mark’s, which was locked on hers, mischief tempered with something pulse-racingly deeper therein.
‘Right,’ Alicia said, shifting from one peep-toe to the other. ‘I’ll get off then. Nice to meet you, um…’
‘Oh, hell. Sorry.’ Mark snapped his gaze away from Donna’s. ‘Mark,’ he said, turning to Alicia and extending his hand over Jack’s pushchair. ‘Donna’s, er…’ He trailed off, obviously not sure who he was in relation to Donna.
‘… dream come true, I imagine,’ Alicia finished, with a knowing smirk. She nodded a greeting in the absence of usable hands. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mark.’
‘Likewise. And this is?’ Mark looked down at the pushchair.
‘Jack,’ Alicia introduced her son. ‘But whatever you do, don’t disturb him. He never normally sleeps unless he’s in the car. If you come across a demented mother on the motorway at midnight, that’ll be me.’
‘I’ll give you an escort.’ Mark smiled at Alicia, then his gaze… complete with China blue eyes so twinkly Donna felt sparks fly all over again… slid right back to hers.
‘You’d better take him in, before you both get arrested for indecent glances.’ Alicia smiled indulgently. ‘See you soon, honey.’ She presented her cheek to Donna’s. ‘I like him,’ she whispered.
‘I’ll ring you later,’ Donna promised.
‘You’d better,’ Alicia assured her. ‘Now, take him in and do unspeakable things to him, before he implodes. And, trust me, I want details.’ She turned back to
Mark. ‘Bye, Mark. Be gentle with her.’
Mark glanced at her, then down, embarrassed. ‘I will,’ he said, glancing back to Donna. ‘I’d never be anything but.’
‘Besotted.’ Alicia sighed audibly as she clacked off. ‘Utterly besotted.’
Chapter Six
‘Made for sharing,’ Mark mumbled, his indecent blue eyes lasering into hers, his lips — most definitely made for kissing — sucking sexily on the other end of her noodle.
Donna smiled, tempted to reel him in and slurp him, which might not go down terribly well with their neighbours, at Wagamamas noodle bar.
‘Sorry about Benedicto’s being fully booked,’ he said, fishing around in their shared bowl for a prawn. ‘Maybe next time?’
Donna smiled. ‘Maybe,’ she said, doing likewise.
‘Is that maybe Benedicto’s, or maybe a next time?’ Mark asked, his gaze now fixed on his chopsticks.
‘Maybe Benedicto’s,’ Donna confirmed, her smile widening as she watched him. He was nervous. She couldn’t quite believe it. Nervous that she, plain, ordinary Donna O’Connor might say no? Did he not realise how delicious he was, even when not dressed in his bite-the-buttons-off uniform, which he’d changed at her house and left hanging in her bedroom — where Donna fancied it looked quite at home.
‘Thank God.’ He glanced up, mischief now dancing in his eyes. ‘My chopsticks would be devastated if this turned out to be a one-night stand.’
Donna followed his gaze back down, to where her chopsticks had been getting seriously entangled with his. ‘Oh.’ She laughed, looking back at him, amazed at how easy it was to be with him.
Mark smiled a warm, sunny smile, which Donna would be quite happy to bask in the glow of forever. ‘And I’d be devastated, if I ever did anything that made you not want to do that,’ he said, reaching across the table to take her hand.
‘Do what?’ Donna asked, her scalp prickling pleasantly as his fingers made contact with hers.
‘Laugh,’ he said, caressing the back of her hand softly with his thumb. ‘You do it beautifully.’
Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. Page 7