The Birds And The Bees Part 14

'Not if you ignore him he won't, and certainly not if you're seen on the arm of another bloke.'

'Don't remind me.' The prospect of that part of Adam MacLean's so-called 'plan' was starting to make her feel ill. For a start, they would look the world's most ridiculous couple, and what would they talk about? His experiences in Barlinnie? The best way to garrotte someone? She despised people like himpathetic bullies who used their size and looks to intimidate. The fact that she could join forces with someone who actually deserved to be deserted by his partner spoke volumes of her desperation to get Matthew back, and as soon as she had, she hoped Jo and Adam MacLean would disappear back to h.e.l.l.

The two women filled their mouths with the spaghetti and the waiter picked that moment to pop back to make sure everything was all right, to which they both nodded vigorously and made primeval noises.

'They teach them that at waiter school,' said Stevie after she had swallowed. 'To wait until everyone has their mouths stocked before asking it. They love it. It's a perk of the job.'

Catherine laughed. It was good to hear Stevie make a joke.

'It's actually perfect, you moving across the road,' Catherine said. 'Old Thunder Thighs is right, you know. It will confuse them both. They'll be on constant red alert waiting for something to happen. He's quite a clued-up bloke, isn't he?'

'Yes, well, we'll see,' said Stevie, who had yet to be totally convinced. She was sure she would be in for just as many nasty surprises from MacLean.

'So when's the next attack?'

'I don't know,' said Stevie. 'I think the idea was to wait and see what the fall-out from stage one was. Sort of a softly, softly approach.'

'It's like Mission Impossible,' said Catherine.

Stevie nodded, knowing what Catherine meant, but her words did sound a depressing, prophetic note. She really was starting to wonder if fighting back was just going to make everything so much worse.

Matthew went into the house, forgot the box was there and tripped right over it, which only added to his mood of annoyance. Not that opening the box did anything to take those feelings away.

'What are those?' said Jo, looking over his shoulder as he unpeeled layers of tissue around some very pretty, be-ribboned stationery. It was funny to see his name there still together with Stevie's. It felt like years ago since they had been together choosing the paper and the lettering and the picture on the covers, when, in real time, it had been less than three months.

'Order of services and an invoice for...HOW MUCH?'

Jo eased it out of his hand.

'You aren't going to like this but hear me out,' she said calmly. 'This bill is in Stevie's name. You need to take it across the road now and let her deal with it.'

'I'd feel a bit rotten doing that,' said Matthew with a stab of guilt, not saying that it had been he who picked such an ornate and expensive design.

'As I say, hear me out,' admonished Jo softly. 'The reason you need to do what I say is that if you are nice and offer to pay for these, Stevie will misread your actions and see hope where there is none. You have to be cruel to be kind here, Matt. You need to be hard with her. Go across the road and insist she pays for these. Don't play her game, for all our sakesespecially Stevie's, darling. Just give her the box and come straight back. Don't let her use it as an excuse to engage you. You won't be doing her any favours in the long run. Trust me. We don't want her to be hurt any more than she is already, do we?'

'Yes okay,' said Matthew, before any of his more honourable thoughts questioned Jo's logic. He hoisted the box up, marched across to the cottage, and rapped loudly on the door.

When Stevie saw Matthew approach, she put two and two together to make a very accurate four. She straightened her back and opened the door, half-closing it behind her so Danny wouldn't see or hear. The straight-backed, unthreatening sight of her stole a hundred knots of wind from his sails. She looked so together, and her stiff body language was not saying to him, 'How nice to see you, I'm so glad you called.'

'These arrived for you,' he said, thrusting them forwards.

'The order of services, I presume. Yes, the printer said they were on their way,' she replied, without making any attempt to take them from him.

'Well, here you are.' He rattled the box at her, but her hands stayed by her sides.

'You could have saved yourself a trip and just put them in the bin,' she said flatly. 'I have as much use for them as you do, Matthew.'

'There's...er...an invoice.'

Despite her attempt at indifference, Stevie found herself unable to disguise the flare of contempt in her eyes, which hit him at point-blank range and stirred up something within him that didn't make him feel very good about himself. He deflected it back, attack being the best form of defence, etc, and surprisingly found he didn't need to fake his annoyance.

'Why are you here, Stevie?'

She could have been glib and explained that the birds and the bees visited her mother and father one day, but decided to play it straight.

'You wanted me out, quickly, and this house was available.'

'But why here? Why this street?'

'Matthew,' she began calmly, without surface emotion, even though she was bubbling inside with a c.o.c.ktail of anger and frustration with base flavours of hurt and despair, 'this was the only house I could get that was near to Danny's school. You didn't exactly give me the luxury of time to shop around, did you? Besides, you have made it perfectly clear that you have another life now, and so have Ione that you're not part of any more. I am a free agent too now, remember, and can live where I like.'

She whipped the invoice from the top of the box.

'My wheelie bin's full so I'll deal with this and you deal with those. Please let's keep this civilized, Matthew. Thank you for bringing the bill.'

And with that, Stevie slowly but firmly shut the door in his face.

Matthew hadn't been expecting that. He felt as if he had been slapped, even though she hadn't been aggressive or shouted or tried to use the parcel as a way to keep him there, as he had been led to believe by Jo that she would. There was no pleading, no trying to win him back. It has to be a double bluff, he thought. Then again, she was acting 'indifference' awfully well . Too well, actually. If he didn't know Stevie so intimately, he would have thought she really meant what she had just said. She couldn't have forgotten him that quickly really, could she?

He was well aware that Jo was staring at his progress through the window opposite as he walked back over with the box, so he was jolly glad Stevie had taken the invoice. He was, after all, thinking of her emotional welfare in the long run. So why then did he feel like an absolute s.h.i.t?

Stevie patted her heart and wondered how she could have spoken so coolly with the acrobatics it had been doing simultaneously in her chest. She had not a clue how she had held it together, but she had and she was proud of herself. Any weakness, any show of hurt, would have proved all his suspicions right but she had given him none. Her little victory did not stop her feeling inordinately sad, though. How could she and Matthew be such strangers to each other, when less than three weeks ago they had made love in the bed he now shared with another woman? She started to think about the details of that last time, how he had been mentally in another place whilst his body had been beside her, although he had put it down to being tired and she'd had no reason to disbelieve him. She had even given him a long ma.s.sage to ease him to sleep. With the clear eye of hindsight, she realized that it wasn't an act of love after all but a red herring s.h.a.g to put her off the scent that he was about to go on holiday with another woman. The thought opened the catch to a big box of hurt that sprang its lid and filled up her heart to bursting-point. He had cared for her oncevery much, she knewso where had those feelings gone? Why hadn't she felt him slipping away?

She supposed she had better let Adam MacLean know; they had agreed to keep each other up to speed, after all. She checked on Danny and then dialled his number.

'Hlloooadmcln,' he said.

'h.e.l.lo, it's Stevie Honeywell,' she said.

'How can I help you?' he said brusquely.

'Just an update. Matthew came over with a parcel for me and asked what I was doing in the cottage.'

'Do tell me more,' Adam said, as if the drama of it all was killing him. Not.

'Well, I told him that I had my life now and he had his. I think he was quite surprised.'

'Oh, right.'

Stevie snapped. 'Mr MacLean, you asked me to keep you updated. That's exactly what I'm doing. Sorry to have bothered you.' Then she hit disconnect before he came back at her with any more of his hilarious dry Scottish wit.

Adam MacLean had been about to say, 'Yes, I know you did and I appreciate it,' when she had a hissy fit and slammed the phone down on him. It was obviously that week every week with her. Luckily they weren't in the same room or she would probably have thrown a vase at him, that being her usual trick when she didn't get her own way, apparently. She should have been grateful he spoke to her at all; everyone else had had a grunt today, if they were lucky.

That morning the bed had seemed much emptier and colder than before and it hit him hard and low that Jo might just have gone for ever. Then he sprang out of that cold lonely bedroom and he knew that it wouldn't happen, because he wouldn't, couldn't let her goand even if he had to marry that b.l.o.o.d.y Stevie woman to make Jo intrigued or jealous enough to come back to him, then he wouldalthough he hoped to heaven and back that it wouldn't come to that. Then Adam opened his birthday cards.

Chapter 26.

Catherine flopped on the sofa and stuck her feet up on the footstool.

'Here you go,' said Eddie, and placed a large gla.s.s of white wine in her hand.

'Thank you, my big gorgeous darling,' said Catherine.

'Flaming Norah! How many have you had already?'

Catherine laughed and took a mighty swig that she felt snake down to her tum and then rocket back up to her brain. 'G.o.d, I needed that. I mean, much as I love my kids, I do so enjoy this time of night when it's just you and me,' she said, snuggling down into the big cushions on the sofa and grabbing the TV mag. There was a Dalziel and Pascoe on in half an hour on cable, and the curry was due to arrive in twenty minutes from the Koh-i-noor. Bliss!

'All right if I go out with Large White and Judd tomorrow for a couple of jars? I'll be back by eleven,' said Eddie. Not that he had to clock in and clock out, but he had a faulty male wire that compelled him to ring home and give info and not be on an elastic band. In fact, all the considerate things that according to Men are from Mars...he shouldn't have done if he had a w.i.l.l.y.

'Yeah, course,' she said. 'You don't have to ask me, love.'

'I know,' he said and smiled over and she smiled back and they settled into an easy relaxed silence whilst the box entertained them.

'Funny though,' said Eddie eventually.

'What is?' said Catherine, holding out her drained gla.s.s for a fill-up. Eddie reached down to the side of him and recharged it for her.

'Well, I've been thinking, if you did mind about me going out for a night, say if you were the possessive type, you wouldn't exactly let me go to a health spa for a week, would you?'

'You're going to a health spa?' said Catherine.

'Am I h.e.l.l. I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about that Jo and the big Scottish bloke. How come he never let her out of his sight but he was okay about her going to that health spa? You know, the one she never actually went to.'

'Hmmm, I see what you mean, yes,' said Catherine.

'I was watching him at the wedding, you know, and he looked an okay bloke to me. I don't buy all that wifebeater stuff. Something wrong somewhere.'

Catherine nodded. Her thoughts had been running along the same lines, but her brain reminded her how wrong they had been about Matthew. Maybe they weren't such good judges of character as they believed. Still, interesting point. She should tell Stevie.

Catherine lifted the phone to dial Stevie's number when it rang in her hand and she picked up to find the very person she wanted to speak to. It happened quite a lot to them.

'Listen,' said Catherine excitedly, 'Eddie's brain grinds slowly but exceedingly small and he's just come up with the point that if Adam MacLean had Jo on such a tight leash, how come he was okay about letting her go to a health farm for a week?'

'I don't know,' said Stevie, mulling it over. 'It's a bit weird, I suppose, isn't it?'

'Yes, isn't it.'

'But then Adam MacLean is weird full stop. He probably had a "plan" to do with that, too.'

'No! Do you think?' Catherine said.

'Most likely. Maybe he suspected something but gave her some s.p.a.ce to smoke her out.' It wasn't information Stevie attached any great significance to, but, nevertheless, she filed it in her mind under 'B' for MacLean. Then she went on to tell Catherine about that day's adventure with Matthew and the parcel, pausing periodically to allow a few choice expletives to air from her friend. Stevie found it gave her some comfort to be free temporarily to hate the man out loud whom she still wanted so very much within.

Across the road, all thoughts of cancelled weddings were now in the wheelie bin with the box of stationery. With an arm around his sleepy lover, Matthew flicked lazily through Ceefax at the news, then the football results, then the numbers for the previous night's lottery draw. Not that he expected anything; he had only won about three tenners ever, or so it felt. At one point he had been buying Thunderb.a.l.l.s, EuroMillions, Hot Picks, Extras, Daily Plays and then the Irish Lottery too until he realized he really, really couldn't afford to carry on, and resigned himself to the occasional Lucky Dip and a regular line twice a week. He had just changed his numbers to his and Jo's birthdays and the date they first made love. Numbers that were now on the screen in front of him.

'That can't be right,' he said, dislodging Jo for a moment in order to get out his ticket from the drawer.

'What's the matter?' Jo asked. She was just about asleep with the delicious combination of a very nice white wine, a very nice warm room and a very nice man stroking her arm very nicely.

'I've won the Wednesday lottery!' said Matthew, checking the screen numbers against his ticket numbers. A cold hand grabbed his innards tightly as he thought it was out of date, then realized to his relief that it wasn't. Jo, now fully awake, s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of his hand and double-checked it.

'Five, you've got five. My G.o.d, how much is that?' she shrieked.

'I don't know, I don't know!' he said. He didn't like to hazard a guess.

'How do you find out?'

'I don't know, I've only ever won tenners.'

Jo looked at the back of the lottery ticket. 'You have to ring Camelot! Quick, hand me the phone!'

Matthew handed her the phone. The line was engaged, so was his head. He could clear all his debts and start a clean slate. He would tear all his Visas up and live within his means. Then again, it was sensible to keep one or two to pay for purchases and holidays, for the extra insurance they gave. A holiday in Barbados for instance, Jo in that white bikini during the day, that little red G-string during the evening and nothing at all during the night.

'Try again!'

'Still engaged!'

'Here, let me try!'

'Anything?'

'Engaged again.'

'Matt, go and get some champagne.'

'What?'

Jo kissed him. She was fizzing like a bottle of Bollinger. 'Go and get some champagne. We have to! Oh please. Let's toast our luck.'

She looked at him in that sultry big-lashed way of hers that was full of l.u.s.t and promise of even more l.u.s.t. G.o.ddammit, she was gorgeous. He didn't need champagne to make his heart any more thrilled. He would have got the same effect from a carton of Um Bongo if it was shared with Jo. But she had other ideas.

'Please, darling. If ever there was a champagne moment, this is it.'

'Twenty quid for some champagne,' said the part of his head that governed his pant-area. 'You're going to have thousands in the bank in a couple of days, you can please the lady with a bottle, surely?'

'Okay,' he relented, and she jumped up and down and clapped her hands like a little girl.

'Bring back two,' she said. 'We'll get horribly drunk and ring in sick tomorrow and then spend all day in bed and plan what we're going to do with the money.'

Matthew already had his shoes on.

'Don't ring again until I get back,' he warned s.e.xily. 'Or I'll have to smack your bottom.'