Authors: Debbie Viggiano
‘Hello?’
Upon hearing Barry’s voice, Steph’s palms had broken out into a sweat. ‘Hello,’ she’d croaked. And promptly dropped the phone. For the next few seconds Barry Hastings had been subjected to scuffling noises and muffled oaths.
‘Hello?’ he’d repeated.
‘Hi!’ Steph had squeaked. ‘It’s Steph. Steph Garvey.’
‘Steffy!’ Barry had sounded genuinely delighted. Which was hardly surprising considering the contents of Steph’s last email. What man wouldn’t be thrilled to bits knowing a woman wanted to explore every inch of his body?
‘Barry, first and foremost, I must apologise for that ridiculous message you received. My Facebook account was hacked.’
Barry had laughed. ‘Couldn’t matter less.’
‘But it matters to me Barry,’ Steph had gabbled. ‘I don’t want you thinking that I’m some sort of sex-mad fruitcake.’
‘Oh what a shame,’ he’d joked. ‘And here was me thinking you’d called to talk dirty.’
Steph had attempted perky nonchalance. ‘Ha ha,’ she’d laughed. It had come out as a yelp. ‘I must stop leaving my laptop lying around. One of my colleagues thought it would be funny to hijack my Facebook and have a laugh with the other girls.’
‘Well tell her that the last time I looked, my chest was definitely hairy.’
‘Yes. Ah-ha ha ha! I will.’ Steph had clutched the phone.
‘So was your friend telling porky pies about you having marriage problems too?’
Steph had gulped. ‘Um. No. That bit is true. Unfortunately.’
‘Well the offer is still on to go out to dinner tomorrow night. I’d love to meet up with you again Steph. Facebook has been a real pleasure for me. I’ve caught up with so many old friends. And I’d definitely like to catch up with you.’
Steph had stared up at the ceiling, amazed at what she was doing. ‘Great. Fantastic.’
‘Do you know London very well?’ Barry had asked.
There had then followed some chat about meeting up. As Steph had to rely on public transport, Barry had told her to catch a train to Blackheath. He’d meet her at the station. And from there they would walk the short distance to Strada, where they would dine.
Steph came back to the present. She raked a brush through her hair and gazed forlornly at her reflection. It would be hard work transforming
that
later on. But transform herself she would. She wanted to rub Si’s nose in it. Show him what he’d thrown away. The phone in the bedroom began to ring. Steph hastened to answer it.
‘Hello?’
‘Steph, it’s me.’ Si sounded thoroughly depressed.
‘What do you want?’
‘Firstly, I want to tell you that I love you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Secondly,’ Si ignored Steph’s comment, ‘I don’t want you going out with Barry Hastings tonight.’
Steph stared at the phone incredulously. Double-standards! She put the phone back to her ear. ‘Well I didn’t want you going out with Dawn or Amanda.’
‘I didn’t go out with either of them.’
‘Oh no, that’s right,’ Steph’s voice dripped sarcasm, ‘you skipped the going out bit and fast-forwarded to bonking. Straightforward gratuitous sex.’
‘I haven’t had sex with anybody,’ Si howled. ‘Why won’t you believe me?’
‘Let me see,’ Steph put a forefinger to her cheek and feigned puzzlement. ‘Would it have something to do with a man punching your lights out for messing around with his wife? And let’s not forget poor Si being so worn out he fell asleep next to a naked human Barbie. Good heavens. These silly things happen all the time. Why ever do I doubt you?’
Steph tucked the phone into her shoulder and wriggled out of her nightdress. She needed to get a move on.
‘I’ve already explained about Dawn,’ said Si. ‘And I was telling the truth.’
Steph bundled the nightdress up and threw it at her pillow. Sod making the bed. Let Si do it. ‘And what about Amanda? You’ve given me no explanation for her.’ Steph slid one leg into her trousers. ‘What bit of the woodwork did she crawl out of?’
‘I don’t know anybody called Amanda!’
‘The trouble is Si,’ Steph popped a t-shirt over her head and grabbed her handbag, ‘Amanda seems to know you.’ The doorbell rang. ‘There’s somebody at the door.’
‘Never mind the door Steph. I want to sort this nonsense out. You’re my wife and I’m not having some slime ball taking you away from me.’
Steph rammed her feet into her shoes. ‘Barry isn’t a slime ball.’ The doorbell rang again. She clattered down the stairs.
‘Please Steph,’ Si was starting to sound very emotional. ‘I haven’t been unfaithful.’
Steph opened the door. A tear-stained woman stood on the doorstep. Even with smudged mascara, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Long hair tumbled down her back like a black waterfall.
‘Is Si in?’
‘Who’s that?’ asked Si.
‘Who’re you?’ asked Steph.
‘Who are
you
?’ countered the woman.
‘I’m Si’s wife.’
‘His
wife
? He never told me he was married,’ the woman gasped.
‘Married men never do,’ Steph smiled coldly.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Si demanded.
‘Let me guess,’ said Steph to the woman. ‘You are Amanda.’
‘That’s right. Where’s Si?’
‘He’s right here. On the other end of this phone. Denying all knowledge of you. Can you hear this conversation Si?’
‘This is preposterous,’ Si spluttered.
‘Oh bugger off!’ Steph snarled. She hit the hang-up button and threw the phone on the hall floor. ‘And you can bugger off too,’ she shoved Amanda off the doorstep before banging the front door shut. ‘And tell your husband to stay away or next time I’ll black
his
eye!’ As Steph strode towards the bus stop she was sure of only one thing. She was definitely not cancelling her date with Barry Hastings.
Chapter Forty Three
Tom woke with a jolt. Had he been dreaming about angry words and a door banging? He sat up in bed, ears straining. Silence. He lay back down and exhaled unsteadily. His mind went back to last night. His father’s black eye. His mother’s tears. Tom’s guilt. Tom flung back the covers. Time to sort this mess out.
Ten minutes later Tom was striding towards the High Street. He found McDonalds and then stuck to that side of the road. He’d bumped into Amanda round...about...here. Tom looked ahead, eyes scanning the parade of shops. Further on he could see a huge hoarding jutting out from brickwork. It read
Let by Payne & Co
. That must be it. Tom walked towards the property. The windows were fogged out so the public couldn’t see within. Due to the warmth of the day, the door was wide open. Machinery whirred within. Sounds of nails being banged. A power drill shrieked. Tom ignored the net of butterflies in his stomach. He stood cautiously in the doorway. Electricians and carpenters were busy at work. Could one of them be Amanda’s husband? Tom’s eyes studied the men. He couldn’t see anybody who looked like The Incredible Hulk.
‘Excuse me mate,’ said a voice behind him.
Tom jumped and spun around. A man stood before him. He was small and wiry. On his head he wore a hard hat. In one hand was a folded newspaper. ‘Sorry pal.’ Tom moved out the way.
‘Looking for anyone?’
‘I, er, possibly. Do you know the person who is taking over these premises?’
‘I do.’
Tom nodded. Good. ‘Could you tell me where to find him please?’
‘Yep. He’s standing right in front of you.’
Tom’s bowels lurched.
‘You are M-Mark?’
‘I am,’ Mark smiled. ‘Don’t look so nervous lad, I don’t bite!’ Mark gave Tom a friendly clap on the back. Tom nearly fainted. ‘I suppose you want to know about training.’
Tom nodded slowly. ‘Y-yes.’
‘No problem. Follow me. We’ll go out back. It’s a bit quieter.’
‘Are there people there?’ Tom trotted after Mark.
‘What, out back?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
‘Why?’
‘Well because,’ Tom looked anxiously around the narrow corridor they were now in, ‘I’d just prefer it back out there.’
Mark abruptly stopped. Tom cannoned straight into him.
‘Why?’
‘Um, I suffer from monophobia. I hate being alone.’
‘You’re not alone. I’m here.’
‘But I need lots of people around me.’
‘I’m coprophobic,’ Mark lowered his voice so it was almost a growl, ‘which means I hate bullshit.’ He wasn’t quite so pally now. ‘So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.’
Tom swallowed. If Mark put one finger on him, he’d bellow the house down. But then again, would anybody hear over the banging and power drilling? Probably not. Time to be brave. He owed it to his father. ‘You visited my house last night.’
Mark put his head on one side as he considered. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Y-you spoke to my father. You punched him.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Well...yes.’ Tom was puzzled. Why was Mark acting like he didn’t know?
‘What point are you trying to make son?’
Tom squared his shoulders. Showdown time. ‘My point is that you hit the wrong person.’
Tom had barely finished his sentence before Mark lunged at him. Tom found himself being lifted up and shoved hard against the wall. The breath whooshed out of him.
‘Cut the crap squirt. What precisely do you want with me?’
‘My name is Tom Garvey. And I’ve come to tell you that my father is innocent. He’s not been having a fling with Amanda.’
Mark’s eyes narrowed dangerously. They bored into Tom’s. Tom remained pinned against the wall. He felt like he’d dropped into a film set. A thug movie. Outside he could hear the sounds of men going about their work. A radio was blaring. Somebody was singing along. Normal everyday noises. He was only a short distance from people. In this corridor, isolated, he felt a world apart. And absolutely terrified.
‘And what do you know about your old man’s love life?’ hissed Mark.
‘Not a lot.’ Tom could feel sweat breaking out on his upper lip.
‘So how can you possibly comment about what he has or hasn’t been doing with Amanda?’
‘Because,’ Tom quavered, ‘I’m the one that’s been seeing Amanda.’
Mark’s eyes widened. Tom braced himself for a blow to the solar plexus. His shoulders, pushed into the wall, felt like they were going to snap. Tom screwed up his eyes in anticipation of further pain. Instead he found himself falling to the floor. Mark had let go.
‘You said your name is Tom.’
‘That’s right.’ Tom stood up unsteadily.
‘It’s Si Garvey who’s been messing around with Amanda.’
‘I told Amanda my name was Si.’
‘Mind telling me why?’
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time. I knew she was married.’
‘So you thought you’d hide behind your Daddy’s legs?’ Mark sneered.
‘Something like that,’ Tom agreed.
‘So Daddy took his little boy’s punch.’
Tom took a step back. He desperately wanted to get out of this corridor. He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and took another couple of steps back. Maybe six more and he’d be out in the main area with the workmen.
‘Firstly I want to say I’m sorry.’
‘Bit late for that mate.’
Five more steps.
‘Secondly I want you to tell my mother that punching my father was a mistake.’
Four more steps.
‘And why should I do that?’
Three more steps.
‘Because right now their marriage is in shreds.’
Two more steps.
‘What a coincidence,’ Mark smiled. But there was no humour in his eyes. ‘So is mine.’
One more step.
‘My mother is in bits.’ Tom stepped out into the main area. With workmen about he felt much braver. ‘If you want to deck me go ahead.’
Mark stared at him. ‘You’ve got a bloody cheek. You’ve ruined my marriage and yet you want me to put things right between your parents.’
Tom let out a shaky breath. ‘That’s about the sum of it.’
‘I don’t think so son. Put it down to bad karma.’
Tom was aware that the men around him had downed tools. They were all watching him. Arms folded across chests. Feet planted wide. A power drill could have sliced the atmosphere. The radio played cheerfully on.
‘Amanda and I are finished,’ Tom was aware that his deodorant had failed him.
‘Another coincidence. Amanda and I are finished too.’
Tom nodded. The shop doorway seemed an awful long way away. ‘Could you please tell her not to contact me anymore?’
‘Now you’re taking the piss sonny. Get out of here. Before I throw you out.’
Tom didn’t need telling twice. He fled.
Chapter Forty Four
Si hung up the phone. Steph had just told him to bugger off. In less than twenty-four hours his wife had become a total stranger to him. Suddenly there was a woman in his life who looked like Steph, had a voice like Steph, but didn’t behave anything like Steph. Where had his mild-mannered wife gone? It was as if an imposter had hi-jacked Steph’s body. Telling him things he didn’t want to hear. And she’d already set her sights on somebody else. Barry Hastings no less! And before Si even had time to get his head around that debacle, he’d had to listen to his wife remonstrating with the mysterious Amanda. He wished The Nut and Squirrel wasn’t so far away. He wanted to race round to Jessamine Terrace and catch this woman before she disappeared into thin air. Who was this female who’d wrecked his marriage? Si half expected some funny man with a microphone to step out from behind a bush and say, ‘Simon Garvey? You’ve been had!’ Except this wasn’t some television set-up. It was an ongoing nightmare that had somehow become real life.
‘Any chance of getting some work done mate?’ Terry materialised by his side.
‘Sorry.’ Si stuffed his mobile phone into an overall pocket. ‘I was just trying to sort things out with Steph.’
Terry stared at Si. ‘Look at the state of you.
Two
black eyes. Is the second one her handiwork as well?’
‘No. That was–’ Si broke off as Dawn walked past. She shot Si a venomous look. ‘Hang on a second Terry,’ Si sprinted after Dawn, ‘back in a jiffy.’
‘Oh take your time pal. I don’t need any plumbing doing. This is a charity I’m running, not a job.’ Terry’s sarcasm fell on deaf ears.