Authors: Debbie Viggiano
Who had gone off with somebody else? Barry? The wife? Unsure, Steph had nonetheless arranged her features into one of sympathy.
‘Number Two. It was a rebound thing.’ Barry had shrugged.
Steph had nodded understandingly.
‘Number Three. She died.’
Steph gasped. The waiter slopped the wine.
‘Number Four,’ Barry shrugged again. ‘Well. Another rebound thing.’
Steph and the waiter had been slightly slack-jawed.
‘Number Five. Would you believe she died too?’
‘My Gods,’ the waiter had muttered.
‘And Number Six,’ Barry had trailed off. Gazed at the melting candle for a moment. ‘Number Six went off to Vegas for a girly weekend.’ Steph and the waiter had stared at Barry agog. ‘She fell in love with a casino owner.’
‘Bad luck,’ Steph had croaked. The waiter, shocked, had retreated.
Barry’s eyes had then filled up. ‘My mates call me Henry the Eighth – on account of the six wives.’ He’d blinked frantically before giving a sad laugh. ‘All I’ve ever wanted is to settle down with one person.’ His eyes had found Steph’s. Bored into hers. Despite everything, her heart had done a few skippy beats.
‘Do you have children?’ Steph had asked.
‘Yes. Four. I pay a fortune in maintenance. Do you mind if we get off this subject?’
‘No, no. Gosh. Not at all,’ Steph had cried. Then she’d picked up her glass and tossed the wine down her neck.
The train rumbled on. Steph closed her eyes. But despite Barry’s unfortunate track record, she had felt helplessly drawn to him. Drawn enough to agree she would see him again. Tomorrow night. At his apartment.
Chapter Forty Nine
Si scrolled through his mobile phone’s contacts list. He found Steph’s number and hit the call button. She answered on the third ring.
‘Hello,’ Si spoke into the hands-free. ‘I just happen to be near the station. I was wondering if you were on the train and wanted a lift home.’
‘You just
happen
,’ Steph sounded cynical, ‘to be driving past at
this
time of night?’
‘Well it’s not that late,’ said Si.
‘So you’ve been out.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you have a good time?’ Steph asked bitterly.
Si thought his wife’s tone was a bit much considering she’d been out with another bloke.
And
making out on the street. ‘I’ve had better,’ he replied.
‘Amanda not up to scratch tonight?’
Si didn’t rise. ‘I didn’t see Amanda.’
‘Oh sorry. Was it Dawn’s turn tonight?’
‘Steph, why are you being like this? You’re the one seeing somebody else. Not me.’
‘I’ve been out to dinner with an old school friend,’ she said primly. ‘That’s all.’
‘I went to school with Barry Hastings too. But I wasn’t invited along,’ Si pointed out. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘I’ve had better,’ Steph parodied Barry’s words.
Better what? Better meals? Better kisses?
‘Did he kiss you?’ Si blurted.
Steph hesitated. ‘He kissed me goodnight.’
She made it sound as if it were a chaste peck on the cheek.
‘Are you seeing each other again?’
Another pause. ‘We had a lot to talk about and not enough time. So yes. We’re meeting up tomorrow night. Just to finish off...things.’
I’ll bet, thought Si. He needed to do some fast thinking here. No way was he having Barry Hastings waltzing off into the sunset with his wife.
‘Of course,’ Si tried to be laid back. And failed. ‘So where’s Captain Marvel taking you tomorrow?’
‘Si, if you’re going to be sarcastic about Barry then I think we’ll drop the subject. It’s not really any of your business anyway. You’ve not told me where you’ve been tonight. There’s no honesty on your part. Only mine.’
‘I’ve been totally honest with you Steph. All along.’
‘Well that’s a matter of opinion,’ Steph’s voice started to rise. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. ‘I don’t want to continue this conversation.’
‘Okay,’ Si rubbed his eyes wearily. And then winced. They still hurt like hell. ‘I’m at the station.’
‘So am I now. I’ll see you in a minute.’ Steph hung up.
Si sat back and waited. His mobile phone chirruped with a text message. Si leant forward. It was from the waiter.
Just to let you knows, Number Six is significant. Maybes they plan something naughty six times.
Si grunted and clicked off the message. They wouldn’t be doing anything naughty even once if he had his way.
Steph opened the van door. ‘Hello,’ she said tersely.
‘Hi.’ Si leant over the handbrake and kissed Steph on the cheek.
‘I think you should stop doing that.’
‘Why? You’re my wife. As I keep reminding you.’
Steph stared at him. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Fire away.’ Si started the van up.
‘Why does this vehicle stink of garlic? And,’ Steph paused, ‘why is there a plate by my feet?’
‘Sorry. I was in a rush earlier,’ Si pulled out. He put up a hand to thank a driver who’d given way. ‘I decided to eat on the go.’
Steph stared at Si incredulously. ‘Most people have a sandwich on the hoof. Not china and cutlery.’
Si was anxious to change the subject. He hoped there wasn’t a napkin lurking around with
Strada
emblazoned upon it. ‘So,’ he smiled cheerily. ‘Home we go. I’m looking forward to my bed.’
‘Yes. You must be exhausted,’ Steph gazed out the window. ‘It’s jolly hard work not remembering who you’ve been out with.’
‘I thought you wanted to drop the subject.’
‘I do. Sorry.’
‘That’s fine,’ Si nodded. ‘But before we do, I’ll just leave you with this thought. If I had been out wining and dining another woman and given her a very thorough good night kiss,’ he glanced across at Steph and saw she had the grace to blush, ‘do you honestly think I’d have gone out looking like this?’ Si indicated his clothes. He was still in his work attire. ‘I haven’t even had a shave.’
‘Perhaps your women aren’t fussy,’ Steph sniffed. ‘Dawn looks like a tramp. Perhaps she’s happy to bonk one too.’
‘Gee, thanks Steph.’
‘Oh sorry. Does slagging off your trollop upset you?’
‘No. But comparing me to a tramp does.’
There was a highly charged silence. Steph had two pink spots of anger on her cheeks. Si felt extremely annoyed. His wife had been out canoodling with another man, confessed she was seeing him tomorrow and yet was still trying to take the moral high ground. Unbelievable! On the other hand, Steph didn’t like hearing Si had been out this evening. Her sniping and bitching about Dawn and the mysterious Amanda clearly incensed her. If she wasn’t bothered about Si, then surely she wouldn’t care who he saw. Which meant Steph still had feelings for him. Si felt slightly heartened. All the time there were feelings, there was something to salvage. He certainly wanted to rescue his marriage. It was just a case of persuading Steph to feel the same way.
Si turned into Jessamine Terrace. The lights were on at Number 42. Tom must be home from his salsa lesson. Si hoped Tom hadn’t brought Aiden back with him. He didn’t want fireworks breaking out between him and Steph in front of an audience.
‘Hi Mum! Hi Dad!’ Tom beamed. ‘It’s really good to see you both together. Fantastic!’
‘Well don’t get too excited,’ said Steph. ‘Your Dad just –’
She stopped abruptly. Si cannoned into her.
‘You wanted me to introduce you to all my friends,’ Tom rushed on, ‘and not take liberties. I know it’s late and I’m not giving you much notice. But I want you to meet somebody I think you’re really going to like.’
Steph seemed paralysed. Si looked over her shoulder. Gravity tugged at his jaw. ‘
And
she’s the same age as me!’ Tom said triumphantly. ‘Meet Melody.’
Chapter Fifty
Tom pushed Melody forward. She’d been hovering behind him, uncertainly. Tom had thought Melody’s apprehension quite sweet. For all her talk about wanting a Sugar Daddy and not wanting to work, Tom had detected a vulnerability to Melody. And that appealed to him. It made him feel strong. Protective. Usually women wanted to mother him. It was quite nice to discover a nurturing streak within him.
‘Pleased to meet you Mr and Mrs Garvey.’ Melody stuck out a hand.
Steph shook it limply. ‘You look terribly familiar.’
Melody shrugged. ‘You don’t.’
‘Pleased to meet you love,’ Si stepped forward and pumped Melody’s hand.
Tom was perplexed. There was a forced jollity about his father. Tom felt like he’d flicked through the television channels, stumbled across a film and was trying to work out the plot. Something was going on here. But he’d be blowed if he could figure out what it was.
‘Mel and I met at the salsa class earlier on. We hit it off.’ Tom put an arm around Melody’s shoulders. ‘We’re going upstairs now.’ Tom suddenly hesitated. Looked at his mother anxiously. ‘If that’s all right with you Mum? Just to practice some dance moves. And stuff.’
His mother was nodding. She didn’t look quite with it. Tom knew his mother was menopausal. Perhaps being spaced out, along with the hot flushing, was another symptom.
‘I’ll see Melody home later,’ Tom said. ‘Unless of course,’ he looked meaningfully at his mother, ‘you don’t mind Mel crashing out. On my floor.’
‘I don’t think so!’ Melody said indignantly. ‘I’ll sleep in your bed.
You
can sleep on the floor.’ She turned and giggled at Steph. ‘I’ll bet that’s what he tells all the girls eh!’
Steph looked at Melody blankly.
‘Ha ha,’ Si laughed jovially, ‘very good. We’ll say goodnight. We’re off to bed ourselves. Come on love.’ Si pushed Steph towards the staircase. ‘See you in the morning Tom.’
‘Maybe,’ Tom nodded after his father. ‘Or maybe not. It’s Saturday. Might have a lie in. Are you both working tomorrow?’
‘Yes. Just another day for me son.’
‘Same for my mum,’ said Melody.
But Si wasn’t listening. Tom noticed his father couldn’t wait to get away. He was hustling his mother along the landing now. What was the hurry? Perhaps they were going to make mad, passionate love to each other. Yuck. But on the plus side, if they wanted to rip each other’s clothes off, things between them must be all right again.
‘I think we’ll leave going up for a minute.’ Tom led Melody into the kitchen. ‘Want some toast?’
‘Okay.’ Melody pulled out a chair and sat down.
‘So. Going back to your mum. What does she do?’ asked Tom. He posted four slices of bread into the toaster and flicked the kettle on.
‘She works in a pub. Works crazy hours for a pittance.’
‘So she’s not bone idle like you then?’ Tom smiled.
‘I’m not bone idle,’ Melody protested. ‘I just want a man who’ll look after me. And in exchange I’ll look after him.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Tom waggled his eyebrows.
‘Yeah.’
‘Wanna show me how?’
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ Melody smiled knowingly.
‘You might only be eighteen Mel, but you don’t come across as naive.’
‘I’m not,’ she admitted. ‘My upbringing was an education in itself.’
Tom placed two mugs of tea on the table.
‘So you are,’ he posted quotation marks in the air, ‘streetwise.’
‘Not streetwise as such,’ Melody put her head on one side and considered. ‘More savvy.’ The toast popped up. She watched Tom get to work with the butter knife. ‘I have a hazy memory of my father. He was a handsome man. He had a few spells in prison for conning gullible women out of their money.’ She took her plate of buttered toast from Tom. ‘In between prison sentences my father – according to my mother – sowed a lot of wild oats. I apparently have quite a few half brothers and sisters scattered around England.’ She took a bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully. ‘I haven’t a clue who or where they are. Wouldn’t it be awful if I unwittingly met my brother and fell in love with him?’
‘I thought you were falling in love with an old man,’ Tom pointed out.
‘No. I’m
marrying
an old man. Love doesn’t come into it.’
‘You know Mel, you sound awfully callous speaking like that.’
‘I know. There’s a name for women like me,’ she paused to sip her tea.
‘Gold diggers,’ Tom finished Melody’s sentence.
‘Well I’m not ending up like my mother. Spending her life in tears. Listening to a man’s empty promises. Being fleeced of the little money she had. Not to mention working all hours God sends. And what sort of man is she going to meet on the other side of a bar? Half of them are pissheads.’
‘Wow. So cynical for one so young.’ Tom popped the last piece of toast in his mouth. ‘I know you said you couldn’t be bothered with further education Mel, but seriously, I’d rather go back to school than spend my life shackled to some old git with a big wallet.’
‘It’s too late for that now.’
‘You’re eighteen. Not eighty!’
‘You don’t understand Tom. When Mum was running away from debt collectors and anybody else baying for my father’s blood, I was in and out of so many different schools. I might as well confess. Ridiculous as it may sound, I can barely read or write.’
‘You’re joking.’
Melody looked irked. ‘Why would I joke about something as serious as that? I was the laughing stock at every school I went to. The class thicko. So there’s no way I’m doing further education Tom. I haven’t properly done the primary education.’
‘There’s evening classes. There has to be others in the same boat as you.’
‘Well I’ve never met them. And nobody’s poking fun at me again. So I’ll do things my way.’ Melody drained her tea. ‘So. Are you seeing me home or what?’
‘I think
or what
is a better idea.’
Melody pushed her mug of tea to one side. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
Chapter Fifty One
Steph lay in bed. Her eyes scanned the darkness while her mind wandered. Downstairs she could hear Tom and Melody talking. Si was next to her. They were laying back to back. Their bodies facing in opposite directions. The same way their marriage was going.
Was there any such thing as the perfect relationship? Barry Hastings certainly hadn’t found it. For all his academic accomplishments and destination for great things, he’d failed dismally in the commitment stakes. Six disastrous marriages. Although maybe that wasn’t a fair judgment. Four disastrous marriages. Two of the wives had died remember? Steph swallowed. To lose one wife so young was unfortunate. To have two wives croak before thirty-five was disconcerting. If she’d been given to fancy, she would have said
suspicious
. Barry hadn’t said
how
the women had died. Steph had been itching to know but too scared to ask. Barry had gone all morose. Steph wondered how often Barry saw his children. In the end she’d felt unable to ask any questions. Still. There was plenty of time to get to know more about Barry. Like tomorrow. When she went to his apartment. Steph was a bit worried about that. If Barry was a wife murderer, shouldn’t she play it safe and meet him in a public place? Hang on, who said Barry was a wife murderer? Her mind reeled. Oh for goodness sake, she chided herself. Get a grip on your imagination! There’s nothing wrong with Barry. He’s just had a rotten time. That’s all. Been unlucky. Steph firmly shut the door on any further dark thoughts.