Give Me Tomorrow Part 8

Mark grinned. 'Well, old Ma Bennet isn't exactly supposed to be a diva, is she?'

'She is as played by Carla b.l.o.o.d.y Dean.' I took a quick swig at my gin and tonic. 'And I can't wait to see her dance!' I put my gla.s.s down on the table and took a look at Mark's face. This seemed like a good moment to spring my proposition.

'Talking of movement, I've got something I want to run past you,' I said, looking at him from under my lashes in the way I knew turned him on.

'Oh?' He raised his eyebrows. 'Am I going to like it?'

'I hope so.' I toyed with the stem on my gla.s.s. 'Since Christmas I've been thinking a lot about us. We had a great time, didn't we?'

He nodded enthusiastically. 'The best.'

'I was a fool to be so rotten to you all those years ago,' I said. 'We have so much in common and I just couldn't see it. We make each other laugh. We're really compatible in every way, aren't we?'

'I've always thought so, yes.' He leaned towards me, his eyes twinkling. 'You're not trying to propose, are you? Because if you are I'm going to have to insist that you get down on one knee.'

'In your dreams!' I gave his shoulder a push. 'No, I'm not proposing not marriage anyhow. What I am suggesting is that it might benefit both of us if I moved in with you. The lease on my flat is about to run out and my flatmate would like to take it over from me. Of course it would only be until we go on tour with the show and ...'

'Lou!' He had grasped my hand so hard that the pressure made my eyes water and stopped the words in my throat. His grin spread from ear to ear. 'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, that would be marvellous. Just fancy home-cooked food every day!'

I kicked him under the table. 'On your bike! That was a Christmas one-off. We share the cooking and the ch.o.r.es or the deal is off.'

He gave me a mock salute. 'Yes, ma'am! Anything you say. When can you move in?'

'Well, I'll have to break the news to my friend that I'm leaving sooner than expected. I daresay she'll be a bit upset but she'll get over it.'

'Are you sure? I'd hate you to lose a friend because of me.'

I smiled at him. 'I'm sure. I'll find a way to make it up to her somehow.'

'OK so when?'

'Give me a few days. I'll let you know at the next rehearsal.'

I started packing that night. I'd told Di that I'd found somewhere else to live and she seemed pleased. A bit too pleased to be flattering, actually. I overheard her talking to Mike on her mobile later and arranging for him to move in the week after next. She certainly didn't intend to waste any time. But it didn't matter, I told myself. Two weeks from now I'll be living in the lap of luxury in Mark's lush apartment.

The day of the next rehearsal was grey and wet; a typical January day. The walk from the bus stop seemed endless. My heels skidded on the greasy pavement and my umbrella blew inside out so many times that I eventually gave up and put it down. After that, the icy rain dripped relentlessly down the back of my collar all the way to St Mary's Hall. Pulling the heavy door closed behind me with relief, I took off my wet mac and shook as much of the water off it as I could. Mark was already there. He was standing with his back to one of the lukewarm radiators and I joined him.

'Brrr! Budge up and let the dog see the rabbit,' I said, giving him a playful shove. 'I've got good news. I can move in at the weekend if it's OK with you.'

He turned to me with an expression like a whipped puppy and my heart sank. I knew right then that it wasn't going to be my day.

He began haltingly, 'Lou, darling I don't know how to tell you this but I'm very much afraid that our plans are going to have to be put on hold for the time being at least.'

I stared at him. 'You what? Why? What's up?'

He took a deep breath and looked at the floor. 'Last night I got an email from Cathy, my sister in Australia. She and her husband have split up and she's flying home today.'

I frowned. 'Home?'

'To England and to me as there's no one else.'

'She's landing herself on you? What a cheek.'

'Not just her but her two kids as well. I couldn't say no, could I, Lou? She's the only family I've got and she's going through a crisis.' He looked at my bemused face. 'I've only got the two bedrooms so it's going to be a bit of a squeeze.'

'Yes, but I'll be sharing yours.'

'I know, but ...' He looked uncomfortable. 'She'll want to talk. She's bound to need some advice and moral support.'

'So? I won't get in the way.'

He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Lou. It just won't work; not with five of us in the apartment. It won't be forever,' he added hurriedly. 'I'm sure she'll want to find a place of her own quite soon. Obviously she'll need to find schools for the kids and settle them down into some kind of normality as soon as possible, poor little devils.'

'Oh, yes tough!'

He reached for my hand but I pulled it away. 'I've already told Di that I'm moving out.'

'But she won't mind if you change your plans temporarily, will she? After all, it's your flat and it'll give her all the more time to find someone new to share with. And you said she'd be devastated that you were leaving.'

There, I'd done it again, I told myself. What's the phrase hoist with my own petard? (What is a petard anyway?) Mark was looking at me, his face creased with concern.

'I'm so sorry, Lou. I was really looking forward to the two of us being together.'

'So disappointed that you let your sister call all the shots,' I said, shaking off his hand. 'She and her kids have to come first, I suppose. After all, who am I?'

'Please don't be like that. I told you, it's only temporary.'

'Does she know you'll be going on tour with the show in a few weeks' time?'

'I did mention it, yes.'

'Then she's not going to be in any hurry looking for a place of her own, is she?' I gave a dry little laugh. 'You'll have the perfect flat-sitter. Just let's hope that you don't come back to find the kids have wrecked the place!'

'They're good kids actually,' he said.

I stared at him. 'How would you know? They live in Australia. How many times have you seen them?'

'Well, not many admittedly.'

'I just hope you know what you're letting yourself in for.'

Paul chose that moment to arrive with Marvin in tow and there was no more time to discuss our ruined plans. I poured my heart and soul into the rehearsal, putting special effort into my scenes with Darcy, who seemed delighted by my enthusiasm. Whilst close to him, I endorsed Mark's opinion that he wore a toupee. I also discovered that he had terminal halitosis which didn't auger well for our love scenes. After the rehearsal, Marvin came up to me and congratulated me on my talent and the hard work I'd put in learning the lines. I felt it was no more than I deserved.

'Paul's done a good job of the casting,' he said. 'Especially in your case. Just wait till we get to the West End.' He grinned at me. 'Fancy your name in lights, do you?'

'I certainly do.'

'We'll have to get you a really good press agent,' he said. 'And a photographer. Some great pics for the magazines.' He looked at me, his head on one side and his eyes half closed. 'That wicked mixture of s.e.xiness and innocence. I can see it now. You'll knock 'em dead, Louise.'

His comments made up a little for the day's disastrous start. I was slipping my arms into the sleeves of my still-damp mac when Mark sidled up. 'Shall we go to the Prince of Wales for lunch?'

I glanced round casually at him. 'Not today,' I told him. 'I'm not hungry or in the mood.' I turned up my collar and picked up my bag. 'See you soon, Mark. Goodbye.' I noticed that Phil, the actor playing Darcy, was just about to leave. I called out to him.

'Oh, Phil! Wait for me. Do you fancy a drink?'

He looked surprised and delighted. 'Great! Yes, I'd love to.'

I turned to Mark, seeing with satisfaction his downcast expression. 'Have to rush. See you soon. Bye!'

'What do you mean, your plans have fallen through?' Di clearly wasn't pleased with my news. 'I've told Mike he can move in next week.'

'I can't help it,' I told her. 'The friend who was going to put me up has had a sudden family crisis.'

'Oh?' She failed to look sympathetic.

'I promise I'll keep out of your way,' I said. 'Presumably he'll be sharing your room and I'll keep to mine. It's only temporary anyway.'

'Actually we hadn't got as far as sharing a bed,' Di said stiffly. 'Mike thinks he's having my spare room.'

I couldn't disguise the little smile that lifted the corners of my mouth. 'Oh! I thought you said you found the old spark was still there.'

'I didn't mean we'd jumped straight into bed together,' Di said icily. 'We're not all as promiscuous as you, you know.'

I laughed. I couldn't help it. 'Promiscuous! Come off it, Di. How stuffy can you get?'

She bridled, and the red patch on her neck that always appeared when she was furious flared angrily above the neck of her sweater. 'Right, you can move all your stuff out of the spare room right now,' she said. 'And from next week on you'll be sleeping on the sofa.'

I picked up my bag, inwardly regretting the fact that I'd laughed at her.

'OK,' I said over my shoulder. 'As long as you realize that means I'll have nowhere to go to keep out of your way!'

I only slept on the sofa for three nights. I think it was partly the fact that I was always around playing gooseberry and partly the rekindling of that old spark they shared that had Mike moving in with Di so that I had my old room back again.

Mike and I disliked each other on sight. I thought he was a charmless weed and he made no bones about making me feel like a shameless scrounger. Personally, I couldn't see what she saw in him with his specs and his pedantic way of talking, but that was up to her. She always did have strange taste in blokes. I kept to my side of the bargain, spending my evenings shut away in my eight-by-ten bedroom while they canoodled on the sofa, recently vacated by me. But their audible lovemaking penetrated the thin walls into the small hours, making sleeping all but impossible for me, specially when I thought of what Mark and I could have been enjoying.

Rehearsals continued and we had one or two sessions with the ch.o.r.eographer and two more with Paul and the musical score. It wasn't going too badly. Mark and I were barely speaking. He told me that Cathy, his sister, and her two adorable angels had settled in happily. I don't know if that was supposed to make me feel better but I couldn't see why he expected me to work up any enthusiasm, seeing that this woman and her two brats had completely scuppered my plans. It seemed that I was doomed to be the outsider the unwanted surplus to everyone's requirements. Di had her beloved Mike; Mark had his sister and her kids and as for my so-called family, they had each other and for all they cared, I could go to h.e.l.l.

Lying awake as dawn was breaking one morning, I made my decision. I'd find somewhere else to live. After all, it would only be for a few weeks. I made up my mind about something else too: I'd start looking for my mother. Maybe she'd been waiting for me to find her all these years. We might strike up a good relationship together. Getting together again might be just what we had both been waiting for. Who knew? But if I didn't try I'd never find out, would I?

A couple of days later, after scouring the local paper I found myself a bedsit in Stoke Newington. It was pretty grim, shared bathroom and kitchen, and the occupants of the other rooms looked a weird lot. But it was cheap and close to the rehearsal venue. It was only temporary, I told myself, so I could stick it out for a few weeks. I told Mark that I'd found a really nice flat; Di too, and I think she believed me. I say believed but she didn't try very hard to conceal the fact that she didn't really care one way or another. I was about to leave her and Dream Lover Mike to share their little love nest in peace. I moved into the bedsit and later made that all-important call to the Sally Army. If I was going to find Mum it was better to do it before the tour started.

Chapter Thirteen.

At the first signs of spring, Ted began to work on his allotment. Susan had applied to the local council before Christmas and to her delight, she heard soon after that she had been allotted the vacant plot next to his. She lost no time in donning the wellingtons she had thought she would never need again, and began to accompany Ted to the huge plot of allotments on the outskirts of town, the car boot loaded with their a.s.sorted gardening equipment.

As the weeks pa.s.sed, Susan could feel herself growing fitter. Her skin took on a healthy glow and seeing the weeds vanish from the ground to be replaced by rows of tiny seedlings gave her immense satisfaction.

Her relationship with Ted had grown from friendship to a comfortable affection. Sometimes she thought they were like an old married couple, sharing their love of working with nature. On the days when they returned tired from several hours of gardening, Susan would go home with Ted and cook a meal for them both. As the weather grew warmer, Ted would drive them both to the coast on Sundays where they would treat themselves to a leisurely lunch then take a bracing walk along the sea front. For Susan it was a whole new life, and Ted confessed that it was the same for him.

The first time Ted had tentatively suggested that Susan might stay the night after one of their outings she had reservations. It was a long time since she had shared her bed with a man. There had only been one man in her life and that of course was Frank. One of her uncertainties was that it would feel like a betrayal. But Frank had always urged her not to be alone when he had gone. You're a woman who needs a man, he had fondly told her once. You need to be loved and cared for. The fact was that Frank had never really known how strong she was. And maybe not letting him see that had been the secret of their happy marriage. But now there was Ted. She recognized that they had reached a milestone in their relationship and she was wise enough to know that the decision had to be mutual. Ted had insisted that it must be; he had urged her not to do anything she wasn't absolutely sure about but she felt that things would never be quite the same between them if she declined.

For a while she held back, thinking carefully about the difference intimacy might make to the pleasure they already had in each other's company. Ted did not pressure her and when at last she made up her mind, he asked her over and over if she was sure. By then she was.

So one Sunday in late March, she took an overnight bag with her when they drove to the coast and later, after they had spent a pleasant evening watching television, they retired to bed together as though they had been doing it for decades.

Ted was so sweet and gentle. He was kind and loving, arousing in her feelings and sensations that she had expected never to experience again. By morning she knew that she had made the right decision. Their new-found intimacy had brought them even closer than before and she felt happy and contented.

As the weeks went by, it occurred to Susan that Ted might ask her to marry him. She searched her mind, asking herself what she really wanted from their relationship. She had always vowed that she would never marry again and really, why change that? she asked herself. Nowadays, no one seemed to mind people being together without the benefit of a marriage licence. They were happy as they were. But as the weeks continued to fly, a tiny doubt nagged at the back of her mind. Ted was a conventional kind of man. Surely he would want to put their relationship onto a more formal basis. Then, one Sunday evening as she was taking her overnight case from the car, something happened to answer her questions in a way that was to shatter her world.

Mrs Freeman was the elderly widow who lived in the bungalow next door to Ted's. She was often to be seen twitching her net curtains on the days when Susan visited Ted. They had even laughed about it. On this occasion, she was watering her front garden when they returned from one of their Sunday outings. Ted had already gone indoors to put the kettle on while Susan took her case out of the car boot. She slammed the lid down, only to see Mrs Freeman's sour face inches from hers on the other side of the fence.

Susan smiled. 'Good evening.'

The woman glared at her. 'Good evening indeed!' she grunted. 'You do know he's married, I suppose? Or are you the kind of woman who doesn't care about little details like that? I've seen you sneaking off first thing in the morning. Ought to be ashamed of yourself!'

Susan frowned. 'Mr Mumford is a widower,' she said. 'Not that it's any of your business.'

'Huh!' The old woman gave a mirthless laugh. 'Widowed! Is that what he told you? Well, you can take it from me that he isn't. His wife's still alive. Shoved into a home and left to rot while he enjoys heaven knows what with loose women. I think you should know that the disgraceful way you two are behaving is getting this neighbourhood a bad name!' She looked Susan up and down. 'I'd have thought a woman of your age would have had a bit more decency about her! Downright depraved, that's what it is ...'

Susan didn't wait to hear any more. Picking up her case, she hurried in through the open front door of the bungalow and slammed it behind her.

In the kitchen Ted was humming happily, his back towards her as he waited for the kettle to boil.

'I'm ringing for a taxi,' Susan said, fishing her mobile out of her handbag. 'I'm going home, Ted.'

'Going home? Why ...' He turned to see Susan standing in the doorway. Her face was white and she was trembling. 'Susan! Darling, what's the matter?' He took a step towards her.

'You might well ask,' Susan said, holding out one arm to prevent him coming any closer. 'You should hear some of the things that woman next door just said to me. You lied to me, Ted. You told me your wife was dead and I believed you.'

'Susan, I never said any such thing. I ...'

'I want to go home.' Her voice was shrill and trembling. 'I won't wait for a taxi. I'll walk!'

'No, please! You don't understand. What did she say? Was it Mrs Freeman?' Susan turned and walked down the hall without another word but he caught her up, grasping her arm. 'Don't go like this. Please let me explain.'

She shook off his hand. 'There's nothing to explain. Goodbye, Ted. Please don't try to get in touch again.'

'Well, at least let me drive you. You're in no fit state ...'

'No!' Trying not to look at his wounded expression she picked up her case and left.

Afterwards she didn't remember walking home. Once inside the flat, she gave way to the tears that had threatened all the way home, collapsing onto the bed to sob into the pillow. How could she have been taken in by him? They say there's no fool like an old fool and she'd been taken in good and proper. For days she didn't leave the flat. When the telephone rang she didn't answer it and she saw that there were several missed calls on her mobile, most of them from Ted. There were texts too but she deleted them all without reading them.