The Birds And The Bees Part 17

As soon as Matthew had jumped back from the window, he felt cross with himself. It was a stupid, puerile reaction, a ridiculous thing to do and she must have seen him. 'She didn't deserve that,' said the old Matthew. The nice, friendly, kind one with a conscience that he had stuffed away in order to allow himself to act in the way he had been doing for the past few months. He had wanted Jo so much, there was no easy way to get her, there were bound to be casualties. All's fair in love and war. He recited the mantra when the doubts crept up on him and his own brain started to mutiny and call him a selection of choice names. All's fair...

The letterbox clacked and the single envelope dropped on the doormat. He stole up to it, as if it might contain something harmful or demanding, then, tentatively, he lifted it to see it was just a Visa bill for Jo. He wondered how much her outstanding amount was, and if there was enough credit left on it to buy a badly needed vacuum cleaner. He stuck it on the mantelpiece to give to her later and thought no more about it.

Thought no more about it, that was, until half past midnight, when his cooling brain was resting on the pillow, sifting through which head rubbish to throw into dreams, which bits of the day to put in the 'in' tray and which in the 'out'. When its attentions came to Jo's letter, it stopped its manic business abruptly and nudged him rudely awake.

Why did Stevie have Jo's post?

Matthew went downstairs and got the envelope bearing Jo's old address, the one she shared with her husband. He couldn't work it out. The only way Stevie could have got this was if MacLean gave it to her. But why would he do that? How come they knew each other? What did it all mean? What was he up to? What was she up to? He didn't get it. His brain started to ache from trying to work it all out.

Matthew didn't get any more sleep that night, and not even the big bread-knife he tucked under his pillow brought him any feeling of security.

The next morning he waited until Jo was dressed before he handed over the envelope to her. She looked at it, then immediately threw it down as if it was contaminated.

'How did you get this?' she asked. 'Did Adam bring it round? s.h.i.t, he knows where we live, doesn't he?'

Jo looked nervous and frightened, and Matt immediately leapt out of his seat to wrap her up in a big safe cuddle.

'Well, there's the mystery. Stevie posted it.' He felt her stiffen even more.

'Stevie? Stevie? How the h.e.l.l did she get it?'

'I don't know.'

Jo ran to the window. 'What is she up to?' she said, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her face as if she was casting a hex. 'Or should I say they?'

'They who?'

'My ex and your ex. They both have an axe to grind, wouldn't you say?'

Matthew laughed. 'You can't seriously be insinuating that Stevie and Adam have got together, can you?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Jo jeered. 'Adam wouldn't look at someone like Stevie Honeywell.'

Matthew had been about to ask what was so wrong with Stevie, but the hard look in Jo's eyes told him that might be unwise.

'I'm going to go over there and ask her how she got this,' he said, rolling up his sleeves, nervously rather than aggressively.

'Don't be silly!' snapped Jo. 'That's exactly what she wants you to do.'

'But I want to find out if he knows where I live!' Matthew gulped. Oh G.o.d! He would come home from work tonight and find a horse's head in his bed.

'I don't know how he could know that,' said Jo. 'I told him you lived at the other side of Wakefield.'

'He could have followed us. You said it yourselfhe's nuts, isn't he?'

Jo was about to say something, but swallowed it. Instead she started to nod slowly in agreement.

'Yes, that's possible, I suppose. Then again, I think he would have done something a bit more drastic than this. Not exactly his stylegrievous bodily letter delivering, if you know what I mean. And Adam wouldn't have got the wrong house.' Which means he's up to something.

'So what's going on then?' Matthew querried.

Jo thought of what had happened when she had returned home from Majorca and told Adam she was leaving him. She should have realized from his reaction that he had something more up his sleeve. Hmmm. Her previous suspicions had been correct after all. How stupid had she been, to think that Adam really had let her go?

She flapped her hand, as if dismissing the whole other side of the street.

'Look Matt, I'm sorry, but I am not playing psychological games with Stevie because that's what she wants me to do. It's not fair on her. She obviously needs help.'

'You seem very sure that's what she's doing.'

Jo nodded slowly. She felt suddenly empowered, thrilled. Adam still wants me.

'I know how women think, Matt, becausesurprise, surpriseI'm a woman myself.' She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. 'Wanna see some proof?'

'Yes, please.'

Once again, Jo and Matthew were late for work.

Adam MacLean rang Stevie at ten.

'What time does your wee boy go tae his bed?' he asked.

'About half past seven,' said Stevie. 'He's always asleep for eight.'

'I'll be round at nine,' said Adam. 'Feel free not to cook anything.'

And Stevie thought, Even when the guy's talking English, he makes no sense at all.

Chapter 31.

The antic.i.p.ation of having Adam MacLean come to the house was worse than having a real date because at least on one of those, the chances were you were going to be with a person who liked you, not with someone just aching to criticize and score points. Was she supposed to cook or what? She could throw him a bone, she supposed, and watch him gnaw it whilst she had a sandwich. Like she was going to give him the satisfaction of calling her inhospitable! She wasn't the most fantastic cook in the world but she could throw together a very nice chilli. Stevie made rather a huge one for that night and poured a big slodge of red wine in it. At least if he didn't eat, she could freeze it for herself. And eat it over the coming decade.

With Danny tucked up in bed, Stevie put a light blue blouse on and her jeans. On the slim off-chance that Matthew happened to see them, she would look out to impress but with a foot in casual. Perfect. Had posting Jo's letter done the trick? Had that one small stone caused big ripples in their happy water life? If so, they would be watching out for activity at her front door. If not, then she might have to think about s.h.a.gging Adam MacLean in the street. Ugh, joke! Matthew was an intelligent guy, intellectually if not emotionally, and he could put two and two togetherand, with any luck, make five in this case. There must have been a few questions floating around in his brain by now, surely?

Knock knock knock, It was quite a soft knock for him. Considerate that Danny was in bed, maybe? Yeah, right! She wasn't ready to give him any benefits of any doubts yet; he had hardly earned the privilege. Stevie crossed to the door and opened it to a huge bouquet of flowers, which quite took her breath away.

'Hi,' said a porridge-rich voice from behind a big pink rose.

'Oh h.e.l.lo,' said Stevie. G.o.d, they were beautiful, expensive. If a lover had genuinely given these, she would have fainted. Then recovered to bonk him five seconds later, which obviously was not going to happen in this case. Not without a frontal lobotomy anyway.

'Can you see anything across the street?'

'No,' said Stevie. 'Their cars are there but there's no sign that they're in.'

'Oh, the swine,' said the rose.

'Do you want to walk around the block and come back?'

'No, in case they are in and have seen me. Then it would look mighty odd, me bringing floooers then taking them away again.'

'You should have squealed your tyres. Your driving capabilities seem to attract the most attention.'

'Are ye going to invite me in or no?' said the rose loudly, getting more and more annoyed.

'Certainly, do come in,' said Stevie with a courteous and tinkly little laugh for the benefit of any viewers who might have been watching over the street. Adam handed the flowers to Stevie. They weighed a ton and she buckled under the weight of them. She stole a look across the lane, but nothing. She noticed that, once again, she and Adam had colour co-ordinated.

'Same blue claes,' he said, which she presumed meant 'clothes', in the absence of anything else they had co-ordinated in, apart from the number of eyeb.a.l.l.s. Was he really from Great Britain? In fact, was he really from Earth? Adam walked straight into the dining area to find it was neat and tidy, which saved him having to tell her to keep it so. The owners had been most specific about that. He had lied to them and said that his 'lady' was extremely house-proud. He then walked through to the kitchen, which was also scrubbed, he noted, as he did a slow warder-type walk around itnot a hint of flour or chocolate anywhere. There were lovely spicy beef waves coming from an enormous cauldron-like pot on the hob and his stomach keened in response to it.

'Well, at least they'll see the car if they don't see me,' said Adam.

'Yes,' said Stevie, thinking, Okay, the preliminaries are out of the way, so what do we do now for the next hour or so?

'Somoney,' said Adam, answering her unasked question.

'Great!' said Stevie. At last. Now she'd find out just which percentage of the flesh nearest her heart she would need to cut out in order to pay him.

'May I?' He gestured towards the table.

'Yes, of course,' said Stevie, and he sat down at a chair there and got out a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

'Do you want something to drink?' she asked. 'Tea, coffee, wine? Sorry, no spirits.' She added that last bit with an over-sorry smile. She didn't want to give him the opportunity of fuelling up on whisky and starting a singsong and/or a fight.

'Wine would be nice, thank you,' he said.

'White or red?'

'Red, please,' he answered, almost sure it would arrive at the table with the 1.89 label still on it. She surprised him with a very rich little South African Pinotage, fragrant and heavy on the summer fruits and berries. He nodded appreciatively.

'Nice,' he said.

'Yes, isn't it?' she drawled. I've surprised him, she thought. He thinks I buy c.r.a.ppy wines to get me drunk cheap and quick.

'Look, here are my calculations.' Adam smoothed out the paper. 'I've taken a three-month lease and we'll a.s.sess the situation after that, if it takes that long, but if you can pay me, say, four hundred pounds a month, I can cover the rest. Can you manage that?'

Stevie stared at him. She had been expecting so much more, a thousand a month at least and dubious s.e.xual requests. As much as it shamed her to say it, if it would have guaranteed Matthew coming back, she would have considered stumping up on all fronts, and back.

Four hundred was reasonable, too reasonable, but for all she couldn't stand the man, she wouldn't have cheated him.

'Mr MacLean...'

'The name's Adam.'

'Sorry...'Adam.' She made the weighty pause before his name sound like an insult. 'I can afford more.'

'No, I said I'd take four hundredthat'll dae.'

Stevie shook her head. 'Sorry, I'm not a charity Mr...Adam.'

'Charity, by Jings! Whit on earth are you talking aboot, woman?'

'Seven hundred. I know what this place is costing. That's what I can afford. Seven hundred a month.'

'Four.'

'I can do eight at a push.'

'This is bartering in reverse!' said Adam, pushing his hand back through his hair. 'Are ye mad?'

'Obviously yes, to be here in the first place,' said Stevie calmly. Four hundred was so low as to be suspicious. She would rather not be in his debt so much.

'What do you do for a living that you can afford to throw your money aboot?' said Adam.

'None of your business,' said Stevie, 'and I'm hardly throwing it away. I'm living here and it's a lovely, big, expensive house. Eight hundred, Mr MacLean, that's my final offer.'

Adam MacLean sat back in the chair and slowly folded his arms. He looked faintly amused.

'So if I say no, what are ye going to do? Refund me to death?'

She didn't answer. She just stared him out until he broke eye-contact and smiled resignedly.

'Okay, if it makes you feel better, let's say seven hundred. That is my final offer. I can take a cheque.'

Stevie produced one she had made earlier, like Valerie Singleton, and Adam put it down on the table, slowly moving his head from side to side.

'Crazy lady,' was his only comment.

'Would you like to eat something?' said Stevie. 'I made a chilli. It'll help pa.s.s the time. Unless you want to play Scrabble.' Neanderthal could be quite a high word score.

'Food would be very nice. I am actually quite hungry,' said Adam. He crossed to the kitchen window and peered through the blinds. There appeared to be no activity at all in Matthew's house. The night was closing in, the curtains weren't drawn, and no lights had been turned on. Despite the presence of the cars, it looked very much as if they were out. Och nooo!

Adam excused himself and went upstairs to the loo. The front bedroom door was closed with a KEEP OUT SUPERHERO'S ROOM door hanger on the handle. Stevie's bedroom door was open and he poked his head inside to find it was tidy also, and subtly scented like a sweet summer garden. A Midnight Moon book was on the bedside cabinet, by Alexis Tracey. The bed had a big puffy quilt like his Granny Walker used to have. He and his sisters would creep in and bounce on it and his granny would turn a blind eye, because she knew they didn't have much else in life to make them smile.

'Want a hand?' he asked, appearing in the kitchen doorway once again and filling it more than the door did.

'You can stick that garlic bread in the oven if you want,' said Stevie, pointing to a tray with a herby loaf covered in cheese gratings and salsa. Home-made garlic bread, Adam thought.

His eyes must have lingered on it a bit too long, for she said, 'What's wrong? Not to your taste, Mr MacLean?'

'Not at all,' said Adam, taking the bread and putting it in the oven. 'It's just that the first time I saw you, you appeared not to have an affinity with cooking.'

'I was baking,' said Stevie. 'I can cook okay, I just can't bake. For some reason, if it involves flour, it just doesn't happen for me. The kitchen seems to explode.'

'Oh I see,' said Adam. He watched Stevie scurry about trying to locate the rice in one of the cupboards.