Happily Never After_A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

by Emma Robinson

  ‘So, what are you going to do now?’

  Rory shrugged. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I’ve confiscated her mobile, which apparently puts me on a par with Adolf Hitler, but she will still see him at college so that’s not going to make a huge amount of difference. I tried to talk to her about respecting yourself and knowing your own worth.’ She put her hands on her face. ‘Although, as half of that was done at the top of my voice, I’m not sure it had the effect I was hoping for.’

  She had really lost her mind after the photograph. It was weird how she could be so calm at school with the shenanigans she had to deal with there, but it had been impossible to keep her cool with Belle. She was almost as angry with herself as she was with her daughter. Almost.

  Sheila sipped at her tea. ‘It’s difficult being a mum sometimes, isn’t it?’

  Rory sighed. ‘I used to think the tough bit was the night feeds and the nappy changing. Turns out I was wrong.’

  Sheila looked at her. ‘The bigger the child, the bigger the problems.’

  Rory started to nod in agreement and then noticed the pointed expression on her mother’s face. ‘I’m not a problem! It’s not me sitting here with a bandaged foot.’

  Sheila ignored her. ‘I think you did the right thing telling Belle how precious she is. Hopefully that’ll be enough to ensure she’s not pressured into doing anything she’s not ready for.’ She paused and took Rory’s hand again. ‘You are precious too, you know.’

  Rory squirmed. ‘Mum. This is not about me.’

  ‘No. But if you’re allowed to worry about Belle, then I’m allowed to worry about you. It’s time you started to have a life of your own. Between that school and Belle and now this house of yours, I’m not sure what life you are allowing yourself to have.’

  Rory pulled her hand away and sat back on the sofa with folded arms. ‘I go out with my friends.’

  ‘I know. And I also know that you often go home early and refuse to even enter into conversation with anyone of the opposite sex.’

  Damn Susie. She should never have let her swap email addresses with her mother. It had only been so Sheila could practise before emailing her friend Jean in Australia. Now they were ganging up on her.

  Sheila had obviously been preparing this speech. ‘You don’t seem to realise that you are running out of time to meet someone. You need to hook them whilst you’ve still got your looks. What man is going to be attracted when your boobs are round your waist and you could get a week’s shopping in the bags under your eyes?’

  Her mum was joking, trying to lighten the mood. But right now, Rory wasn’t in the mood for jokes. ‘I keep telling you, Mother. I don’t need a man.’

  ‘None of us have ever needed a man, Aurora. It’s just nice to have one around sometimes. Even if it’s only to open jars and catch spiders.’

  ‘You bought me that jar opening contraption from the Kleeneze catalogue last Christmas. Job done.’

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t have done that!’ Sheila softened her voice. ‘Have you dated anyone since Scott? Maybe you just haven’t wanted to tell me?’

  She sounded so hopeful that Rory didn’t want to disappoint her. But there had been no one of any consequence. ‘I just haven’t been interested. I mean it when I say I don’t need someone.’

  Sheila leaned over and put her hand on Rory’s cheek. ‘I know that. I know that you can do everything on your own. I’m proud of that. I’m proud of you, my clever, brave, beautiful daughter. The way you’ve brought up Belle, your career, even that damn house of yours. I know that you don’t need anybody else to do anything you set your mind to.’

  Rory was amazed to hear these words. ‘So why do you go on about it all the time?’

  Sheila sat back in chair, but she didn’t take her eyes from Rory’s. ‘Because need is different to want, Aurora. Don’t you want to have someone at home to carry the load? To be there when you can’t? To talk things through with when you have a big decision?’

  This was too much. ‘I’ve got you, Mum.’

  Sheila paused before she spoke. ‘But I won’t always be here, Rory.’

  Rory’s chin trembled. She fought to get it under control. ‘Don’t say that, Mum.’

  Sheila shrugged. ‘You asked me why I go on about you meeting someone. That’s why.’

  The two of them sat in silence for the next few moments. Rory wasn’t able to speak. Too much had happened today. There was too much to think about. And all of it hurt.

  Eventually, Sheila took a deep breath. ‘On the subject of saggy boobs and wrinkles though, I think Flo and Sid might be getting it on!’

  Rory took her lead. They needed to balance these feelings with some humour. ‘Really?’

  ‘I’ve seen him come out of her flat a couple of times. When he saw me, he mumbled something about helping her put up a shelf, but I know that can’t be true. That man is to DIY what Arnold Schwarzenegger is to needlework. Plus,’ Sheila held up a finger like Hercule Poirot, ‘there was no sign of a toolbox. I told Barb and she’s having a field day. Every time she sees Flo she winks at her and asks her how she’s been sleeping. Flo asked me yesterday if Barb has an eye infection.’

  Rory laughed. It felt good. She reached over and kissed her mum on the cheek. ‘Well, if even Flo is starting to date, maybe you’re right and I should get a wriggle on.’ She put her palms under her boobs as if to weigh them. ‘How long do you think these babies have got left?’

  Sheila pulled her arms back down again. ‘That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying, be open to meeting someone.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘There might even be someone under your nose.’

  Rory knew where this was going. ‘Mum…’

  ‘Like, what about John?’ The expression on her mother’s face as she tried to pretend that this idea had come to her out of nowhere was almost endearing.

  There it was again. That odd fluttery feeling. Maybe she needed to get her blood pressure checked. ‘He’s my…’ She was going to tell her mother for the hundredth time that John was only her builder, but she didn’t have the strength. ‘He’s not interested in women, Mum. He told me himself.’

  Sheila looked very disappointed. ‘Really? He doesn’t look…’

  ‘Gay? Number one, there’s not a “look”, and number two, I don’t think he’s gay. He’s just happy on his own.’

  Sheila huffed. ‘Well, they’re all happy on their own, it’s our job to…’ She stopped when she saw Rory’s face. ‘All right; I won’t say another word. It’s just a shame. I like him. He reminds me of your dad.’

  He reminded Rory of her dad too. That was probably why it was so easy to talk to him. Maybe that’s all it was.

  ‘Obviously he’s a builder like your dad, but I mean he has a similar personality, the way he teases you a bit. Your dad was always pulling my leg. When we were camping once, he told me that spiders don’t like torchlight. He had me walking around for about thirty minutes with a torch tied to each ankle before he and Jean’s Roy fell about laughing. Buggers, they were.’

  Rory smiled. ‘We’ve got a lot of good memories, Mum.’

  ‘That we have.’ Sheila patted Rory’s hand. ‘And it’s time for you to make some new ones. What about this fella of Susie’s? In her last email, she told me he might have a friend for you.’

  This was like being fifteen again. Rory had some understanding why Belle had been so defensive. ‘Maybe, Mum. Maybe.’

  Sheila sat back as if her job was done. ‘Good. Call her tonight and tell her. Her boyfriend sounds very exciting. Apparently, he has a huge tattoo on his back of a medieval dragon.’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rory had just got home with the flat-packed IKEA shoe cabinets she’d had delivered to work – one for her, one for Belle – and was about get them out of their boxes and put them together, when an attractive young woman knocked on the front door. An attractive young woman in overalls.

  ‘Hi. I’m Chris.’

  ‘Chr
is?’

  The attractive young woman held up a wrench. Her ponytail waved behind her. ‘Your plumber. For your bathroom? You are Rory?’

  Of course! John had offered a couple of weeks ago to contact a plumber friend of his to plumb in Rory’s new bathroom suite, but Rory clearly hadn’t written the date down in her diary. Also, she’d assumed that Chris would be a man. How embarrassing. She should have known better with a name like her own. Sexist.

  ‘Of course, come in.’

  Chris picked up a heavy-looking toolbox and followed her inside. ‘I don’t normally work evenings, but I can never say no to John. He’s a special case.’

  Rory was beginning to realise that. She paused at the bottom of the staircase. ‘Have you known John long?’ Chris looked to be about three years older than Belle. Practically a child.

  ‘A couple of years. I met him on a job shortly after I qualified. He puts a lot of work my way. Shall I go straight up?’ She pointed upwards with the wrench.

  ‘Yes, of course. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs. The basin and bath are already in there. The toilet is in the hall. I’ll make you a drink. Tea?’

  Chris grinned. ‘I’d love a black coffee, thanks.’ Of course she took it black. You wouldn’t stay that slim and attractive drinking builders’ tea with two sugars.

  * * *

  Chris had already started hefting things into place when Rory took her coffee to her. Standing in the doorway with the mug, Rory watched her getting everything into position. Attractive and capable; no wonder John ‘put a lot of work’ her way. ‘So, John keeps you busy?’

  Chris grunted as she gave the bath a shove, then stood to take the coffee from Rory. ‘Thanks. I haven’t stopped today. Yeah, John usually recommends me to his female customers. They feel more comfortable having a woman round.’ This made perfect sense. Some women on their own might feel vulnerable with a strange man in the house. Don’t read anything into this.

  ‘He has a lot of female customers, does he?’ Was it possible to say that without sounding like she was fishing for information? Or desperate?

  Chris took a gulp of her coffee, put it on the window sill and nodded. ‘Yeah, quite a few. Which is great for me.’ She dropped down onto her haunches and started to lay out pieces of plastic tubing. ‘This bathroom suite is nice. Must have cost a bit?’

  It was the kind of bathroom Rory had assumed would be out of her price range. Stand-alone bath, shower with six body jets, taps that looked like a modern water feature. Fabulous. ‘Actually, John managed to get it for a really good price. Some of it was ex-display, I think. I really love it.’

  Chris looked up sideways, lips pressed together and a twinkle in her eye. ‘He’s good like that, our John.’ She winked at Rory, then went back to her plastic pipes and elbow joints.

  Rory felt a warmth rising in her cheeks. ‘I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.’

  Chris nodded and started to whistle softly to herself.

  Back in the sitting room, Rory opened the cardboard boxes and pulled out the components of the shoe cabinets, laying them across the floor in a production line. Beneath her, the floorboards looked great now they’d been sanded down. By John. The walls and cornice were smooth and crisp now they’d been properly plastered and painted in the same neutral shade. Which John had helped her choose. And the fireplace? Well, that had been a joint effort. Would she have managed all this without him?

  She hadn’t appreciated the twinkle in Chris’s eye: it was time to reassert herself. She had her hammer and screwdriver set and was ready to go at the shoe cabinets when the doorbell rang again. When she saw who it was, her stomach flip-flopped.

  ‘Hi, Rory. Just checking Chris found you okay?’

  Rory held the door open. ‘Come in and see for yourself.’

  John walked through the hall, pointed up the stairs and, when Rory nodded approval, took them two at a time up to the bathroom. There was a little mumbled conversation, a few laughs. What could be so funny about plumbing? When she heard him coming down the stairs, Rory dashed back into the sitting room.

  John knocked on the frame of the door and came in. ‘Look, I was thinking. I don’t have anything on tonight, so I’ll hang round and help Chris. The sooner we get this finished, the sooner I can get the tiles up. You could have a fully functioning bathroom in the next week.’

  Tempting though his offer was, Rory had to stick to her principles. ‘You’ve done enough and I know you have other work on. I can get someone in to do the tiling later.’

  John frowned. ‘But the tiles are here and I’ve got time this week. Plus, I won’t charge as much as it would cost you to get a tiler in because it’s part of the whole job. It makes sense, doesn’t it?’

  How could she tell him no without sounding rude? ‘Actually, I’m going out shortly. I wouldn’t feel right, leaving you here slaving away whilst I’m drinking wine at Penny’s.’

  John shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I’ve been here on my own several times and anyway, it’ll give me a chance to catch up with Chris. Haven’t worked with her in a while.’

  He was making it impossible for her to refuse his help without making a big deal out of it. And the promise of a beautiful bathroom by the end of the week was appealing. She couldn’t stay here while he worked, though. Her stomach was already doing somersaults. It hadn’t got the memo from her brain. He is not interested in you. He just helps people. Needy women. You are not needy.

  ‘Okay. If you’re sure. But I am going to have to shoot off.’ She prayed that Penny was home and in the mood for alcohol. ‘You’ve got a key, haven’t you?’

  John fiddled around in his pocket, brought out her spare key and held it up. ‘Certainly have. You go and enjoy your night with Penny.’

  But when Rory called Penny from her car, she was out to dinner with the new boyfriend. ‘I’m so sorry. Shall I come home and meet you there?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, it was just a last-minute thought. You enjoy yourself and we’ll catch up another time.’

  Sheila didn’t answer her home phone, Susie was already out, Charlie was with his mum, and Belle was with Fiona. Allegedly.

  There was no way Rory was going back in. She headed to a service station ten minutes’ drive away. At least there would be coffee.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting at a plastic table drinking Costa Express and thumbing through her phone. She’d tried to read a book on the Kindle app but couldn’t focus without her mind wandering back to her bathroom and whether John and Chris were enjoying their ‘catch up’.

  This was ridiculous. Hiding here, when she should just go home and get on with her shoe cabinets. So what if John had a lot of female clients? What business was that of hers? And to feel jealous about him and Chris – because that’s surely what was causing this burning feeling in her chest – was absurd. Chris was young enough to be his daughter. And who was Rory to have an opinion on that, anyway? Especially as she had a date lined up with Susie’s boyfriend’s friend at the end of the week. Rory shuddered. She still wasn’t convinced the date was a good idea.

  Susie had been very excited at the prospect of setting her up. There is no one as infuriatingly in love with love as someone in the early stages of a relationship. ‘This will be so much fun! The two of us out with two friends! I’ll come over to yours beforehand and we can get ready together. I can’t wait!’

  Why had Rory agreed?

  But, if she didn’t make an effort to meet someone, was tonight going to be the shape of her evenings to come? Rory enjoyed her own company, but you could have too much of a good thing. The blind date was already arranged, so she just needed to put on her big girl’s pants and turn up. What’s the worst that could happen?

  Belle sent her a text at 9.30 p.m. to say that she was home with Charlie and they were keeping John and Chris in black coffee and sugary tea. Belle seemed quite enamoured with Chris, who was, apparently, ‘a right laugh.’

  Even though it was childish, Rory left it unti
l 11.00 p.m. to return home, wired on caffeine and lemon drizzle muffins. There were no vans outside and the house was quiet. She was safe.

  Belle and Charlie were both in their rooms, so Rory completed her usual tour of the downstairs, checking locks and switching off lights. In the sitting room, where she’d left the components of the shoe cabinets laid out, were two completed cabinets and a note from John: Sorry. Couldn’t resist.

  Caffeine and muffins could really make your stomach feel weird.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘I don’t want to do this.’

  Susie wasn’t listening.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ What had Rory been thinking, agreeing to this date? It was her mother’s fault. Looking all vulnerable and making her cry. If Sheila hadn’t been so adamant, Rory would never have gone along with it.

  ‘You don’t get to change your mind at the last minute. Jim has told his friend all about you. This is going to be fun.’ Susie, looking stunning in a fitted red dress which matched her lipstick, continued to flick through Rory’s wardrobe with a face of increasing incredulity. She pulled out something dark green and voluminous. ‘Culottes? What were you thinking?’

  Rory snatched them from her and stuffed them back into the wardrobe. ‘I bought them after I’d had Belle. They were forgiving.’

  Susie sighed and sat down on the bed. ‘Haven’t you got anything a bit more… sexy?’

  Sexy? It had been a while since Rory had worried about that. Functional and smart were more her requirements when she shopped for clothes. And that was rare. She’d spent more time in Topshop with Belle in the last six years than she ever spent in clothes shops for grown-ups.

  Susie leaned back onto the bed and propped up her head with her hand. ‘I have to say, I really like this room. Your man John, he’s done a great job.’