Authors: Debbie Viggiano
Upon letting herself into Number 42, Steph could hear the television. Whatever was Si watching? Nursery rhyme music issued forth. The sound of children singing could be heard. Steph opened the door to the lounge. Two tiny tots were sitting in Si’s armchair, clapping their hands in time to the music on the television. So immersed were the children in their viewing, they didn’t even notice Steph. She shut the door and went down the hall to the kitchen. Her husband was sitting slumped at the kitchen table, staring into space.
‘Si?’ Steph put the footie magazine and Minstrels down on the table. ‘Where did the children come from?’
‘Hmm?’ Si gazed at Steph blankly.
‘In case you hadn’t noticed, there are two kids in the lounge. They’re not mine. So whose are they?’ Si failed to respond. Why was her husband behaving oddly? Why was he just staring at her? As if his world had fallen apart? Or as if his world was
about
to fall apart. The blood drained from her face. ‘They’re not yours are they?’
‘What?’ Si furrowed his brow.
Steph sat down heavily on a kitchen chair. ‘Have you had an affair? Are these secret love children?’ Si continued to gaze at her vacantly. ‘For God’s sake Si, talk to me!’
‘Talk to you!’ Si suddenly roared. ‘Yes I’ll talk to you! I go to work and get harassed. I come home and get arrested. My wife collects me and slaps my wrists. I find two kids in the house that don’t belong to me. Then my wife asks me if they’re mine and accuses me of having an affair. Thank you Steph. I’m going for a drive. Nice hairdo by the way.’ Snatching up the keys to his van, Si stalked out and banged the door behind him.
Steph couldn’t believe what had just happened. She and Si never argued. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d raised voices to each other. She found herself adopting Si’s position and slumped over the table, staring into space. Her bewilderment intensified. So where had the kids come from? And then she heard a woman laughing followed by a man’s murmurs. It sounded seductive. Intimate. Tom! Tom had a woman in his room. Steph slapped her forehead as the jigsaw fell into place. The children belonged to the woman with Tom. What the devil was her son playing at? He might be eighteen, he might have finished school, but this was her house and she wasn’t having all manner of women being brought home by him. This time he’d gone too far. And what sort of female did he have up there? Well obviously a mother. But what sort of mother left her kids watching television in a strange house while she took to another man’s bed? And what sort of a predatory cradle-snatching woman wanted to go to bed with an eighteen year old student? The woman must be some sort of–
‘Pervert!’ she whispered. Oh my God. Steph clutched the table to steady herself. She felt sick. Dizzy. Just at that moment she heard a key in the lock. Si drooped in.
‘I’m sorry Steph. I didn’t go for a drive. Just sat in the van and took some deep breaths.’ He stopped and stared at his wife. She was as white as the kitchen cupboards. ‘What’s the matter love?’
‘Pervert!’ Steph gasped in horror.
Chapter Fourteen
Si couldn’t believe his ears. His wife had just called him a pervert! She’d been married to him for twenty-four years.
Twenty-four years!
And now she’d decided he was some sort of sex fiend.
Thanks for that Steph. Thanks a bunch.’ Picking up his keys, Si turned on his heel and made off to the front door again.
‘Not you!’ Steph finally found her voice. ‘Her!’
Si spun round, eyes casting about wildly.
‘Up there!’ Steph jabbed a finger at the ceiling. ‘Tom has a female up there who I presume is the mother of those children.’
‘That’s right. Her name’s Rachel. You didn’t give me a chance to explain.’
Steph rubbed her eyes wearily and stood up. ‘I’m sorry.’ She walked over to Si and put her arms around his waist. Si felt his anger dissolve.
‘That’s okay.’ He folded his arms around her.
‘No it’s not okay,’ Steph’s voice wobbled. ‘It’s not okay at all. I should have been sympathetic when you were falsely arrested – shown some understanding. Instead I was bossy with you and exasperated with June. And talking of June, I don’t know what’s got into her lately. She’s not herself. I caught her staggering along the pavement yesterday. She ended up grabbing the lamp post. I went to help her expecting her to look grey and ill. Instead she was all starry eyed and behaving like she’d had an epiphany. And as for Tom! I’m fed up with this house being treated like a lovers’ motel. Enough is enough!’
‘I quite agree,’ said Si. Oh to have his telly back. ‘So you’ll talk to him.’
‘No,’ Steph looked incredulous. ‘
You’ll
talk to him. Father to son. Man to man.’
Si had been hoping Steph wouldn’t say that. ‘We’ll
both
talk to him.’
‘When?’
Steph let go of Si and crossed her arms. Uh-oh. Si recognised the body language. When women did the arm crossing thing, it meant they were on the warpath. And now Steph’s chin was jutting out and she was looking all determined.
‘I guess there’s no time like the present,’ he said resignedly.
Out in the hall Si stopped to listen. The sounds of the television prevailed in the background. He went up the stairs quietly, Steph glued to his heels.
‘What will you say?’ Steph hissed.
Si was clueless. They were outside Tom’s room now. Why didn’t some clever clogs write a child rearing manual about situations like this? And then, instead of scratching his head, Si could’ve flipped methodically through the Index, run a forefinger down to the heading
How To Chuck Unwanted Women Out Of Your Son’s Bedroom
and all would have been ticketty boo. ‘I’ll wing it,’ Si said. He sounded more confident than he felt. He rapped on the door.
‘Yeah?’ Tom called out.
Si levered down the handle and burst into the room. Steph sprang after him, tucking herself in behind Si’s torso. Tom was sitting on the bed. Rachel was beside him. Thank God they had their clothes on.
‘Son, I’m sorry. This has been a long time coming. I’m not sure how to word this. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of Rachel, but your mother and I have decided enough is enough. It’s over.’
Steph’s head popped out from behind Si. She waggled a hand under her chin. ‘I’ve had it up to here!’ she nodded.
‘We don’t watch the box together any more. We don’t eat together any more. We go to bed at night and–’
‘Dad!’ Tom gave a sad smile. ‘Too much information. I’m really sorry.’
‘You’re sorry?’ Si stared at his son incredulously. Tom apologising was a first.
‘Sorry?’ Steph echoed.
‘Well of course I’m sorry!’ Tom exclaimed. ‘You two have been married for twenty-four years. And now you’re telling me it’s over.’
Si turned round and looked at Steph. ‘I don’t think I’m getting through to him. You have a try.’ He pushed his reluctant wife forward.
‘Basically Tom,’ Steph warbled, ‘your friend has to go.’
Si cringed but mentally applauded his wife for coming straight to the point. ‘She has to go,’ he repeated.
Steph looked at Rachel. ‘I’m very sorry. Well actually I’m not sorry. Why should I be apologising? This is my home so I’ll speak my mind. What sort of woman are you? You come round here trailing two little kids, park them in my lounge–’
‘–in front of my telly,’ Si chipped in.
‘– and then clear off up here with my son to do God only knows what manner of debauched things. Frankly you should be ashamed of yourself. What sort of example are you setting those impressionable little children? Have you ever stopped to think about that, hmm? And what about Tom here? You’re messing about with a
child
Rachel. A child, do you hear? He may be built like a twenty-five year old but the fact remains he is only eighteen. You’re doing untold damage. You’re screwing with his marbles.’
Si privately thought that it wasn’t Tom’s marbles Rachel was screwing. But he had to hand it to Steph. She was doing a champion job. Getting straight to the point.
‘So,’ Steph continued, ‘we want you Tom to stop bringing loose women with no morals back to this house. And we want you Rachel to leave the premises immediately. And please collect your poor little children on the way out.’
There was a resounding silence. Tom’s jaw had dropped open. Rachel looked shell-shocked. Steph was almost panting with exertion. Si moved around his wife and held out his hand to Rachel.
‘Come with me please Madam.’ Oh God. His brief time at Blackfen Nick had rubbed off on him. He’d be bending his knees next and saying ’ello ’ello ’ello.
Tom found his voice. ‘Mum. Dad. I don’t think I introduced you properly. This is Rachel Gardner. She was my drama teacher at school. Recently she started up an Amateur Dramatics Club. I’m co-writing a play with her. She thinks I’m very talented. Plus it will look good on my CV. Rachel has builders working in her house. We came here so we could concentrate on the writing.’ Tom indicated papers spread across the bed.
‘And I brought my children Mrs Garvey,’ Rachel said coolly, ‘because firstly they’re no trouble and secondly their crèche is shut for summer. Nor did I think Mr Garvey that it would be a problem leaving them in front of your telly.’ She began collecting the scattered papers.
‘Right-oh!’ Si gave a cheery wave. ‘We’ll leave you to it. Come on love,’ he grabbed hold of Steph’s hand. ‘We have to go out. No hurry Rachel. In your own time.’
‘Nice kids,’ Steph nodded, ‘a credit to you.’
Holding Steph’s hand as if his life depended upon it, Si pulled her after him. He felt sick. Sick with embarrassment. And poor Tom! How would his son live it down? But then again, Tom had skin thicker than rhino hide. He probably wouldn’t be fazed. That poor woman’s face! She’d looked so shocked. How awful. All Si wanted to do was flee from the house. And not come back until Rachel had gone. He grabbed the van keys and propelled Steph out the front door.
‘Don’t say a word,’ he put up a hand to silence her protests. ‘Just get in.’ Si banged the van door shut and turned the engine over. ‘We’ll go for a drive. Kill some time. And then we’ll go home and have dinner. Rachel will have gone and hopefully Tom won’t disown us.’
‘Well at this rate we’re never going to eat,’ Steph tutted. ‘Look at the time,’ she tapped her watch.
The onset of evening hadn’t been lost on Si. A beautiful sunset was going on. If Si hadn’t felt so stressed he’d have sat in the van for a bit just watching the clouds and light patterns shifting.
‘We’ll drive to the chippie,’ said Si. ‘Save you cooking.’ He indicated to pull out. A BMW stopped and flashed him to go. Si put up his hand to thank the driver, then watched in dismay as the BMW appropriated his parking space. He’d have to drive around the block several times later to find another spot for the van.
‘It’s been a bit of a day,’ Steph sighed.
‘Never mind,’ Si leant across the handbrake and patted Steph’s thigh. ‘At least we have our romantic date to look forward to tomorrow.’
Steph nodded. ‘Absolutely. We’re going to have a lovely time.’
Si nodded. Nothing else could go wrong. Could it?
Chapter Fifteen
June was full of champagne. She was also in the middle of an incredibly long series of snogs. She couldn’t remember the last time anybody had stuck their tongue down her throat. She had a hazy recollection of doing such a thing with Arthur, but long ago. Decades ago. Certainly prior to Arthur giving Viagra a try. That had been a short-lived experience. In every sense of the word. June wasn’t sure if snogging on her doorstep was quite the done thing. They’d been standing on the step for a good ten minutes now. Wouldn’t people passing by think her outrageous? Or revolting? Should a seventy year old woman be
making out
with a sixty-four year old in public? Or at all come to that?
June closed her eyes and tried to enjoy Harry’s mouth on hers. After all the anticipation, this kiss was – dare she admit it? – disappointing. June put her arms around Harry’s neck. She was pushed up against her front door. The letterbox was pressing into her bottom. This latest kiss had been going on for well over a minute. Harry was making lots of
mm mm mmmm
noises. June took this as a sign of pleasure. Perhaps she should do the same. Surely it was only polite? But the shy, reserved part of June refused to oblige.
June heard a discreet cough. She opened her eyes and looked over Harry’s shoulder. Tom was standing outside Number 42 with an older woman and two small children. They were staring at her and Harry. The children looked puzzled, the woman flabbergasted. Tom was grinning broadly. June put up a hand and gave a little wave. She’d have said hello if her mouth had been available. Tom ushered the woman and children down the path. Before setting off along Jessamine Terrace, Tom turned and gave her a cheeky thumbs up. June was mortified. She needed Harry to stop kissing her. Another couple of minutes had since elapsed. If nothing else, she needed oxygen.
June pushed Harry away. ‘Harry!’ she gasped.
‘Sweet Juney,’ Harry panted, ‘are you going to ask me in?’
‘I don’t know,’ June clutched her cardigan about her nervously, ‘it’s quite late.’
‘Nonsense! The night is still young – like us! Come on, let’s go in!’
With a shaking hand, June opened her front door and flicked on the hall light. Ralph greeted them, bug-eyed and yawning. He ignored Harry but wagged his tail for June. Harry led June into the lounge. Ralph trotted after them, but Harry put the toe of his shoe against the terrier’s chest and shut him out.
‘Let’s get that salsa music going!’ said Harry walking over to the hi-fi.
‘Okay, but not too loud. Steph made a comment about it last time.’
‘Well it sounds like Steph needs to loosen up. This will certainly help.’
Bold bars of piano sounded before a band burst into Latin rhythm. Despite worrying about Steph and Si, June instantly found one foot tapping to the beat. Harry turned to look at June and held out his hands. June kicked off her jewelled flip-flops and wiggled over. Harry strutted and pranced. June twirled and whirled, her bare heels flicking up.