Had Stevie been a puffer fish, she would have swollen up to twenty times her normal size then and grown spikes.
‘Yes, but you don’t know me at all to judge me, do you?’
Adam couldn’t believe she had snapped at him. He had actually meant what he said as a compliment!
‘No,’ he said, thinking back to his conversation with Pam, ‘you’re right, I don’t. But I think I might get to know you quite a bit better soon.’
‘Oh, do you really think so?’ drawled Stevie, as all thoughts of goodwill towards him disappeared in a puff of smoke. Cocky git! The party was over, so was the pretence, and now he was back to being the local Loss Ness Monster representative.
‘Yes, I think we need to capitalize on the impact we’ve made tonight.’ He calmly sipped from his cup in stark contrast to Stevie, whose eyebrows appeared to be doing a tango.
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning, it’s working so we have to give it our all.’
‘So, Mr MacLean, how exactly do you propose to do that?’
‘Easy,
Miss Honeywell
. Tomorrow I’m moving in with you.’
‘Well, that was another great evening!’ Jo grumbled, throwing her clutch purse down on the sofa and ripping off her shoes. ‘I can’t believe Adam would even
think
about going out with
her
. Obviously, he’s doing it out of spite. What does he think he’s bloody trying to prove? I mean, as if I’d be jealous of a fucking ugly fucking dwarf!’
‘You think he’s trying to actually do that? Make you jealous?’ said Matthew, wincing at her foul expletives. Not even Jo with her posh accent could make them sound acceptable to him.
‘What else? He can’t actually like her, can he? He’s obviously using her and the stupid bitch can’t see it.’
‘Don’t be cruel,’ said Matthew with a weary huff. ‘Stevie hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s a good person.’
‘She can’t be that great if you left her at a minute’s notice,’ sneered Jo waspishly.
‘I didn’t leave her because she was horrible,’ said Matthew, but quietly because Jo was being quite scary and her comment hit his conscience in the bull’s eye.
‘You’re standing up for her?’ Jo looked at him with an expression so twisted it made her sweet face look quite ugly.
Matthew decided not to say that he was worried to death about Stevie and would have to step in soon to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life. He knew it would cause this row to get even bigger and he was too tired, physically and emotionally, for that tonight. His head felt heavy and mixed-up and fit to burst. It was as if Jo was two different people sometimes and he was seeing less of the sweet, lovely one every day.
‘All I’m saying is that she didn’t deserve what she got from us and does anyone deserve to be a punchbag for
him
?’
‘Oh, don’t be stupid! Adam wouldn’t—’ Jo snapped off what she was going to say and flew into a different fury instead. ‘How dare he? With her! How long has it been going on, that’s what I’d like to know.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes, of course it matters! No one is unfaithful to me. No one!’
She thought once again of how easily Stevie had let Matthew go. And she thought of how undramatic the scene had been when she had told Adam she was leaving. He had listened without saying a word and made no attempt to follow her when she went upstairs to pack her cases. He had even carried them downstairs for her and put them in the car. She saw that sadness was heavy in his eyes, but he still had done nothing to stop her going. In the car, she had pressed her nails into her arm in frustration and anger, hardly feeling the pain.
How dare he let her go so easily?
She had despised him as weak at the time but now she was sure this was all part of some greater plan,
and it excited her. No one had ever let Jo go without a fight.
‘Jo, please explain to me why exactly would you be cross that Stevie and Adam have got together? How can you be bothered, after all he put you through?’
Jo’s mouth opened and then shut tight again. Then she started up the stairs, saying, ‘I’m going to bed, Matthew. Come if you want.’
As he heard the bedroom door open, Matthew knew that her back would be waiting for him in bed and tonight, for the first time, he really didn’t care.
In his cold, echoey, four-bedroomed house that night, Adam started to pack a suitcase. It was young Danny who had reminded him that there were only two bedrooms in that house–something that Finch would know. If he moved in, Finch would presume the obvious–Danny in one bed, he and Stevie in the other. Their plan was working better than he could ever have expected it to. He had seen how many times Matthew’s eyes had drifted over to Stevie at the barbecue. As for Jo, she was hurting; Adam was definitely getting to her. He could tell that by the way she sneered at him through the happy, party crowd, as if she was enjoying the thought that he might be suffering. Like a wasp, Jo stung to kill when she was threatened. Then he had witnessed how she’d treated the boy. It had altered everything, seeing Danny try to cuddle her and Jo shove him off as if he was something abhorrent. Something about the events of that night had shifted all the pieces around in his heart.
Then he thought of how slowly Stevie’s head had turned towards him when he had made the suggestion that he move in with her to Humbleby. He didn’t think it was possible for anyone’s eyes to open that wide without popping out and detaching from their optical nerves. It was all he could do not to burst out laughing, but he feared she would have whacked him with the nearest
Midnight Moon
rubbish.
‘One last big push and I swear to you that if they haven’t broken up in seven days, I’ll move out again. But I promise you they will have.’
‘Of course you’re joking!’ said Stevie breathlessly.
‘Naw,’ said Adam. ‘I’ve never been more serious in my whole life.’
It was obviously against her better judgment but she had soundlessly and slowly nodded her assent and continued drinking her coffee. Who would have thought they would ever have had to resort to these measures?
At 15 Blossom Lane, the next day was a very strained affair. Matthew made Jo an early breakfast in bed as a peace-offering, although he wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. He went out for a huge stack of Sunday newspapers and settled himself on the dining-room table as Jo went back to sleep. Was it his imagination or were there more debt articles than ever in the supplements?
How to manage your money? Should I get a consolidating loan? How to stop spending…
His bowels started to cramp up as he read. He really could not afford, in all senses of the word, to delay the money talk with Jo any longer, so he wished she would hurry and wake up. She was still asleep when he called up at lunchtime, so he slunk back downstairs and reached for another newspaper with only a bacon sandwich and a bag of Cheesy Wotsits for company.
He heard signs of her rising just after four and waited patiently, chewing his nails, whilst sounds of the fully-turned-on bath taps filtered downstairs. He was almost physically deformed with anxiety by the time she came
downstairs, an hour later. His heart sank as he saw she was dressed to go out.
‘Are we going out for something to eat?’ were her first words to him.
‘Now–say it now!’
urged a voice in Matthew’s head.
‘Er…Jo.’ He took her hands and pulled her softly down on the sofa. ‘I can’t. I’m a bit broke at the moment. I’m sorry.’
There, that was easy enough!
‘Broke?’ She looked confused. ‘What do you mean, “broke”?’
Matthew took the sort of breath one did before a bungee jump off the Grand Canyon.
‘The thing is, for a while…it would help if you could give me something towards the household bills–you know, the mortgage and…stuff.’
She stared at him as if he had just grown a pair of horns. Then she stood abruptly up. ‘You are fucking joking, I take it. Now, like I say, are we going out or do I pack a bag and leave now?’
‘We’ll go out,’ he said.
‘I’ll get my shoes,’ she said.
Oh bollocks
.
As Matthew was dreaming that night of a big Visa card with Colin Seed’s cardigan on chasing him around work, Adam’s car was pulling quietly up outside Humbleby Cottage. Danny was asleep in the big bed that his mum would share with him for the next seven nights. Stevie would have preferred to stay in the back room, but the front bedroom had a lock on the door.
‘Hi,’ she greeted Adam nervously.
‘Hi,’ said Adam, bringing in a suitcase and a sports bag, which he dumped by the door.
‘I’ve put you in my room,’ said Stevie a little awkwardly. He raised his dark red eyebrows and she bristled in response. ‘I will, of course, be sharing with Danny. I’ve told him you’re having some decorators in and are just lodging here for a while.’
‘Fine,’ said Adam. ‘I’ll no’ confuse the boy.’
‘Good,’ said Stevie.
‘I’d have taken the sofa. You didn’t have to move out for me.’
‘I fell asleep on the sofa once after working late. Trust me, it’s not at all comfortable even for someone my size, so…’
‘You never said what it is that you actually dae for work?’
‘Anyway, if you take your case up I’ll put some coffee on,’ said Stevie, ignoring him.
‘I’ll take that as an “I’m no’ telling you, so bugger aff”.’
‘That’s it in a nutshell, Mr MacLean. You know where your room is, of course.’
He laughed. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, and saluted and obeyed.
The room smelled of something sweet like wild strawberries swirled in with the perfume she wore. He had noticed it on her at the barbecue–light and floral and violety–so unlike the heady, exotic, spicy scents that Jo preferred. Stevie had put fresh linen on the bed; lovely cool cotton sheets. She had left big white fluffy towels folded neatly on top of the duvet and she had cleared some
wardrobe and drawer space for him too. This was not a woman who lounged about all day watching TV through a layer of dust, he thought, and wondered again what it was exactly that she did do all day then. He could have asked Will but he didn’t want to cheat. He wanted to crack her secret himself. It amused him to puzzle on it.
He came down to the beautiful smell of coffee hissing and spitting in angry protest through the percolator.
‘What sort is that one?’ he asked, ‘It smells divine.’
‘Crème caramel,’ she said. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘Don’t worry yoursel’.’
‘We had a big chicken for lunch. There’s plenty left, if you want a sandwich.’
‘Thanks, I might just do tha—’
‘I thought you might,’ she said, putting down a substantial plate of sandwiches in front of him, garnished with crisps and salady bits. ‘You don’t look like the sort of bloke who says no to food.’
‘Not unless you baked the bread yourself,’ he said.
‘No, you’re safe. It’s from Morrison’s.’
And then they watched a late-night murder mystery and munched chicken sandwiches and chocolate digestives until bedtime, like an old married couple who warred a lot.
The first thing Matthew noticed as he opened the curtains the next morning was Adam MacLean’s car outside Stevie’s cottage, and it didn’t take an idiot to work out that he had been there all night. He presumed that’s why Jo was extra-agitated and stomping and crashing about and in a generally foul mood. They both knew there were only two bedrooms to that house. Neither of them said a word about it but it was obviously on their minds, and they were both cross that it was on the other’s mind, none of which helped to lift the mood of a day that had already been spoilt by 7.30 a.m.
They journeyed to work in the same uncomfortable silence that had stood like a concrete block between them the previous evening during dinner.
‘Look, please, can’t we be friends?’ Matthew said, pulling into the work’s car park. ‘I hate this atmosphere between us. I’m sorry about mentioning the money and I don’t care what’s going on across the road. Let them get on with their lives and let us get a sandwich at twelve and go and sit in the park and talk.’
‘I’m going shopping,’ said Jo, petulantly through a very dry pout.
‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Would you like that?’
‘No, Matthew, I wouldn’t like that,’ said Jo flatly. ‘Today I want some space. I’ve got things to do.’
‘I’ll walk five paces behind you,’ he tried to joke but she rounded on him fiercely.
‘For Christ’s sake, stop stifling me!’ And she leapt out of the car and went into the building alone. He sat in shock because she had always led him to believe that she liked to be made a heavy fuss of. Rather like a spoilt, demanding Persian cat.
Matt waited for Jo in the foyer at the time when her lunch-hour was due to end, hoping to catch her for a quick kiss-in-passing at least. He wished so much that he could have turned the clock back and not mentioned the money. He hoped it was that which was making her hostile towards him and not the Adam and Stevie thing, which had taken up a big unwelcome block of his own headspace, too, however much he was trying to deny it. He had an appointment with his bank account manager fixed up for the next afternoon, and had he waited for the outcome of it, he might never have had to tell her that he had a few financial problems. Then all he would have had to do was tell her one final lie–that his investments weren’t as great as he had been led to believe. How he was going to break the news that they were approximately half a million pounds light was a bit of a teaser though. He had got so carried away exaggerating, trying to impress her.
Oh God, what a mess!
There was something different about her as she came in from town, then he realized it was that she didn’t have any shopping bags.
‘Why are you waiting for me?’ she said, with the big scared eyes of a spooked deer. She didn’t break her stride, forcing him to trot along at the side of her.
‘I thought we might snatch five minutes.’
‘Not today, Matthew. I don’t feel like I want your company today.’
‘Please, darling.’ He grabbed her arm to stop her. She ripped it away with disproportionate force and ran up the escalator. It was all very odd. She looked like she did when she had first started speaking to him, when she had been scared of Adam. Matt couldn’t get a handle on it at all.
However, coming through the revolving door into the building immediately behind her, Colin Seed knew he could.