Unaware of the drama that had happened across the lane the previous day, Matthew walked into work on Monday morning and had the weirdest feeling he was being watched. Eyes seemed to linger on him longer than was necessary. He had the ridiculous notion that he was the subject of gossip.
Jo had driven her own car in very early that morning; his suggestion that he accompany her had been met with a weary sigh. It appeared that he couldn’t win at the moment: if he paid her attention, he was crowding her, if he didn’t he was ignoring her. He had tried to talk to her about it in bed at the weekend but she had looked at him as if he were nuts.
‘That is
so
your imagination!’ she had bawled at him, like a good-looking fishwife, then she demanded rough sex. This time he hadn’t been able to raise as much as a smile and he had refused to bite and manhandle her, with the result that she hadn’t spoken to him after Saturday morning.
He had gone into town on the Sunday, to buy her a ‘sorry for whatever I did’ present, something gold and expensive, but bit back the urge at the shop doorway. This
was harder than giving up cigarettes years ago, but he had managed to muster up the willpower to do it eventually, so at least there was some hope of a cure. He bought her a sweet little card instead. It still lay unopened on the kitchen table where she had tossed it down.
Matthew settled himself at his desk, pondered over the dilemma of what to do for the best and then bit the bullet. He decided Jo would be less annoyed if he tried an active approach rather than a passive one, so he took a deep breath and dialled her extension.
‘Jo MacLean,’ she answered briskly.
‘Hi, it’s me. Fancy lunch?’
‘Sorry, no,’ she said, as if he was a sex-crazed stalker who had just asked her for a gangbang with the Board. She slammed the phone down on him and he stared at it in disbelief. What have I done wrong now? he thought, shaking his head.
Life had been so much easier and less complicated with Stevie, he found himself thinking, as he headed out of the building in the direction of Pauline’s Pasties at half past twelve, again with the feeling that he was under some giant microscope hidden in the ceiling.
‘Have I done the right thing, sending Danny to school?’ said Stevie, shaking her head in self-disgust that she was waving through the class window to the son who nearly died yesterday.
‘Okay, let me ask you this,’ said Catherine. ‘How was he when he got home from the hospital yesterday?’
‘Bit quiet. Apart from that, fine. Considering.’
‘Was he upset in the night?’
‘No, he slept like a log. I didn’t, though. I kept checking to see if he was still breathing.’
‘And did the doctor say, “Keep him at home”?’
‘No.’
‘And what happened when you said, “Danny, you’re going to school”?’
‘I didn’t. I said I was keeping him off for a couple of days but he wanted to go. They’re having that Punch and Judy show in assembly this morning, aren’t they? I’ve told Mrs Abercrombie to ring me if there was any problem at all.’
‘There you go then. He
wanted
to go and he was
fine to go
. He’ll be better at school bragging to his mates that he went off in an ambulance yesterday than sitting at home with a miserable-looking mother nattering over him.’
‘If Adam hadn’t been there, I just don’t know what would have happened.’
Catherine grabbed her hands. ‘Adam
was
there. Danny
is
well. There’s no point in going along the “if” road. You’re talking to the woman who didn’t strap her three-week-old baby properly up in the car seat once and dropped him down two stairs, remember?’
‘Yes–and I also remember the state you were in afterwards.’
‘Precisely. I was half-insane with all the “ifs”.’
‘I feel half-insane as it is. I asked Adam to stay on even though I’m scared stiff that Danny will get attached.’
Catherine stared right into her friend’s sad, blue eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re not frightened that it’s
you
who will get attached?’
‘Me?’ said Stevie.
‘Yes, you. I watched you at the party and I thought, They aren’t acting.’
‘Of course we were acting, Cath. Besides, the guy likes tall, good-looking women who weigh less than eight stone. How could I follow Jo MacLean? Talk sense, will you.’
‘Ah yes, the lying, cheating Ms MacLean–what a catch
she
is. The more I hear about that woman, the more I think she might turn up in the
Guinness Book of Records
for being the most treacherous bitch in the world. I’ve always thought there was more to her than meets the eye. Clever though. But then good liars usually are–and you, of all people, should know that.’
‘I know,’ said Stevie. ‘I know.’
They walked on a little further to where Catherine had parked her car.
‘I made some discreet enquiries to Will, by the way,’ Catherine said, ‘like: “Could you get a job as a manager in a topclass gym if you had a criminal record?’”
‘Oh, very subtle,’ said Stevie with a gentle laugh. ‘And?’
‘Not a chance. They do a full police check.’ Catherine looked hard at her mixed-up bunny of a friend. Next to Stevie’s, her life was more or less flat-lined but she wouldn’t swap her lot for Stevie’s present roller-coaster ride. The girl deserved a break.
‘So what now, hon?’ she went on gently.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Would you still have Matthew back? After all that’s happened?’
‘Of course I would,’ said Stevie, without thinking. She
didn’t want to allow herself room to think. Otherwise, what the hell had been the point of the last eight weeks?
‘Hiya, wee man!’ said Adam, coming in from work, giving Danny a big cuddle as he rushed at him. He was wearing new pyjamas with no buttons or collars to be seen, he noted, and his Dannyman emblem was stitched on the front.
‘Hey–nice jim-jams. Like the style!’ said Adam, twirling him around.
‘He’ll be in that style until he’s forty-five, if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ said Stevie. ‘Anyway, come on, bedtime, little man.’ She gave Adam a tentative smile. ‘He wanted to stay up and just say “hi”. I hope that was okay?’
‘Of course,’ said Adam. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘Because I’ve encouraged you to stay away from him, and then suddenly I’m throwing him at you. I didn’t want to add to any confusion for you.’
He looked at her. What was that conversation he’d had with Danny once about the most important quality of a Superhero? He reckoned Danny’s mum had just what it took to be one of the best.
‘Nice smell,’ he said, pulling his eyes away and to the kitchen.
‘I made you a steak pie. As a thank you for…you know what. I’ll just…’
Words failing her, she edged backwards and took Danny upstairs for their bedtime business. Then, after discreetly checking her make-up and squirting on an extra spray of perfume, she went back downstairs to find Adam looking across the lane at Matthew’s house, lost in his thoughts. Her
heart started beating a little faster in distress. After all Jo MacLean had done to him, it was obvious that he still wanted her, but then the heart was a wild card that didn’t play to a rulebook. It had made her half-mad for Mick, who treated her so cruelly, it had made her agree to a ridiculous plan to get cheating Matthew back, and now it had turned its deranged attentions to Adam MacLean, who was still madly in love with another woman. How could she judge him? There was no bigger fool on this earth than her own heart.
She carried the pie to the table, which had been set just for one.
‘You no’ going to join me?’ he said.
‘I’m not hungry, really. I have to get some work done. Can I get you a drink? Wine? Whisky?’ She had bought a bottle of both in.
‘No, I’ll just get a wee glass of water. Cannae stand whisky!’
Stevie looked at him in open-mouthed shock. ‘But you’re Scottish.’
His eyes twinkled. ‘You noticed?’
‘And you had a trolley full of it that day when I met you in the supermarket.’
‘That was for the hospital tombola. Jings! Did you think it was aw for me?’
‘Well, yes…sorry.’ Stevie smoothed her hair back from her face in a gesture of embarrassment. The ‘B’ file in her head was full of so much conflicting evidence about the man that it blew up there and then in shame. ‘I got you so wrong on all fronts, didn’t I?’
‘Wasnae your fault,’ he said, wisely not mentioning that he had believed Jo’s stories that Stevie was a complete harpy, a car-crash of a mother and a mega-slattern-fiancée.
She carried the pie in to him, smiled bashfully and then doubled back quickly into the study, although she wanted to sit with him, wanted to be near him. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t slim or tall or pretty enough for him to cast
that
sort of glance in her direction.
Adam sighed deeply as the study door closed behind her because he really wanted just to sit with her, wanted her to be near him. He shifted his attention to the thick-crusted pie she had set in front of him. She’d even made a pastry thistle on the top of it for him. He hadn’t really eaten properly since Jo had come to see him. Strangely enough though, his thoughts had not been for her tonight whilst he stood at the window and looked across at the house opposite. They had all been for Finch, who hadn’t a clue yet that the awesome hurricane which had swung into his life, would rip out his innards when it left–and that would be soon. He almost felt sorry for him. His stomach suddenly gave a big growl as the smell of the thick onion gravy drifted up his nostrils, but his heart gave a louder, hungrier growl for what that fool Finch had thrown away. Sadly, the thing that would have satisfied it was not on the menu.
Matthew went into work alone again the next day, leaving Jo behind to pack for a two-day conference she had suddenly announced she was going on. A very short time ago, he couldn’t bear to be out of her sight for even a few minutes, but now he was glad she was going. He would appreciate the space from her and her white-knuckle-ride moods. They were barely talking at home, they hardly spoke at work, and he knew she was avoiding contact with him there. The only place they interchanged was in bed, and even that was becoming tiresome. Her sexual demands were becoming stranger and rougher, the sulks greater when he denied her. He had come to hate the sight of that mouth gathered into a spoilt-child moue that he once considered so sexy.
He tried not to let himself believe that he had made a fatal error exchanging what he had with Stevie for this, but the evidence was piling up by the binful and he could no longer ignore the stink it made. He had been an idiot. Take away the sex and the temporary joy of spending money from his relationship with Jo and there was nothing left. Theirs was a simple arrangement: he gave out and she
took. He realized he was exhausted emotionally and physically as well as financially.
He had a lunch meeting at noon in the boardroom, which was, at least, something to look forward to. There would be a few big execs present and as such, the in-house catering would be top-notch. They always rolled out the posh sandwich fillings when people like Bill Phillips and Jim Leighton made an appearance. It promised to be quite a jolly affair, with a few other faces present that he hadn’t seen much of recently. Matthew badly needed the lift of spirits such good company would give him. He passed the morning quietly, with his head down, biding his time until then.
At twelve, he walked into the boardroom and instantly felt the air temperature drop, as if someone had switched on a fan. There was nothing he could actually put his finger on. People spoke to him and greeted him, but with a hint of coolness, an awkward reservation of which he was all too aware. Maybe he was just worn down with all this business at home; maybe he needed to get some anti-paranoia pills. Or Maybe he needed to be bitten by a werewolf and become one, because that’s what Jo seemed to want in bed. He felt worse than ever when he came out of the meeting, which had only served to depress him more than he was already. Then, if that wasn’t enough, he got a call from Personnel at two-thirty to ask if he could bob down to see Colin Seed for a few minutes.
Colin Seed was slightly different from his usual dull, brown self when he let Matthew into his office. He was sporting a trendy tie with fish on it and his hair looked slightly
darker, as if he had been experimenting with some ‘Just for Men’ but had got it ever so slightly wrong.
‘Please sit down,’ he said politely enough. Matthew sat and waited for Colin to begin, not able to imagine what this was about. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
‘It’s come to my attention that you are making quite a lot of personal phone calls.’
Oh, that old chestnut!
Matthew breathed out two lungfuls of relief.
God, Seedy really was desperate for his backside!
‘Colin, I’ve made a couple, and they were local and important.’
‘…And you’ve been lying about your whereabouts.’
‘My what? My where—’
‘Even though you are a Departmental Manager, Matthew, this company has always prided itself on equal rights for all. If you had discovered that one of your staff was at a personal meeting at the bank after filling in a request form for time off for a dental appointment, would you or would you not take action?’
‘Well…’ Matthew couldn’t think of anything, except that the only person who knew about that was Jo.
‘Quite frankly, Matthew, your work attitude stinks. I can’t count the number of times you’ve been late in recently.’
This wasn’t happening
.
‘The worst, I’m afraid, is yet to come,’ Colin said, his voice tightening like a tourniquet. ‘Your blatant harassment of Miss MacLean will not be tolerated by this company.’
‘My what?’ He rose.
‘Sit down!’ barked Colin. ‘I myself have been witness to
your phone calls to her, obsessively keeping tabs on her, deluging her with unwanted gifts, seen first-hand the disgusting violence you’ve subjected her to…’
‘Hang on, what’s this got to do with work? We live together, Colin, we’re lovers! You’ve got no right to interfere…’
‘Miss MacLean asked me for help.’
‘Whaaat?’
‘I think your inability to realize that your relationship has ended has greatly affected your function in this company and made your position untenable. We are a big family here, we protect our people, we don’t want men like you working here and threatening the safety of our females. So it is with great regret, especially after such an unblemished career, I have to announce that we shall have to let you go.’
Matthew laughed derisively. He was in a bad dream, brought about by the stress of performing sexual gymnastics fourteen times a night.
‘What do you mean, I can’t accept my relationship’s ended? This is nuts! It hasn’t ended–it’s still going strong!
We
are still going strong! We’re planning our bloody wedding, for God’s sake!’
Colin shook his head as if Matthew had just proved how delusional he was and so there was no point continuing this conversation.
‘You’ll be paid until the end of the month and obviously your holiday entitlement will be converted into salary.’
‘You have to be kidding.’ Matthew felt sick, light-headed. This was surreal. ‘I’m being sacked? For living with my girlfriend?’
‘No, Matthew, for gross misconduct,’ said Colin Seed with loud disgust. ‘At Miss MacLean’s request, though frankly I think it’s a hideously overgenerous one, I will not record on your personnel record what a disgusting, violent little bully you are if you go quietly and discreetly. The poor girl is a wreck. She can’t breathe without your permission. You’re lucky she isn’t pressing police charges. Now get out, and if you aren’t out of this building in ten minutes, I’ll get Security to throw you out.’
Security threat or no, the first thing Matthew did when he got back to his office was ring Jo’s mobile. It clicked straight onto voicemail. He grabbed his coat and blindly stuffed things into his briefcase because a
Countdown
-type clock was ticking in his ears. So he hadn’t been imagining things; people really
had
been looking at him strangely. Worse than that, even, with sex-beast specs on. He felt like crying from the injustice of it. He didn’t look up; he didn’t want to see the stares of people who had it all wrong. But then, not meeting their eyes made him look guilty. He didn’t know what to do for the best and he couldn’t bear it. It was like being trapped in a nightmare. There was no oxygen in the building. He left quickly and quietly, and almost fainted when the fresh outside air rushed into his lungs. He would sort this; he would clear his name. He needed to see Jo–she would back him up against that twisted, sex-starved old woman Colin Seed. She would make everything all right.
Jo MacLean heard the mobile ring and she clicked ‘ignore’. It was Matthew. She relished the thought of the panic he
must be in now, but she felt no sympathy. Not once had he convinced her he was the Golden Goose but a second time, with that ridiculous paltry lottery win. What he had coming to him would serve him right, because if she had known the truth about his financial state, she would never have left Adam.
Out of all the men she’d had, she really had regretted letting Adam go the most. He’d been lovely–kind, generous and so very gentle. She hadn’t even minded that much about the revolting ponytail and long straggly beard he had been growing to shave off for charity, and that spoke volumes. She wished now that she had stayed and married him–well, for a while anyway. He had been bitten hard before and was nervous about taking that step, but she would have won him over to the idea, had she not been distracted by Matthew and his hot-air talk about his so-called investments.
She had started to notice weeks ago that Colin Seed was a far more frequent visitor to the department than usual. Matthew had hit the nail on the head thinking Jo was the attraction. It had been so easy to hook him: a few tears by his Bentley in the executive car park and he was putty in her hands. He was the contingency plan she put into place, just in case things soured with Matthew. Jo MacLean always liked to have a contingency plan. She made sure she was in total control of her own destiny.
Then she had seen Adam with Stevie and it had driven her half-crazy. It surprised her, because she didn’t think herself capable of feelings that deep. She wanted him back immediately, and it never occurred to her that the space she
had left in his life would not still be open to her. She had gone to see him at the gym, wearing one of the suits he had bought for her, her hair down as he liked it best, but he had turned her down. He said he didn’t love her any more.
Now Jo’s suitcases were in her car ready to take to Colin’s house–Colin’s monstrously huge eight-bedroomed house in the most elegant part of Leeds suburbia–and even better, she had persuaded him to take the position in New York.
Adoration, love-gifts, a new life in the Big Apple and pots of real money to look forward to–this time Jo MacLean, the ultimate bird of passage, thought she really had cracked it.
Matthew drove carefully home because his hands were shaking too much to speed. He felt as if he was in
The Blair Witch Project
–a big foresty mess that he couldn’t get out of, and things could only get worse. He pulled up noisily outside his house, plunged the key into the lock then crashed through the rooms, calling out Jo’s name in despair. She was not there, and nor were any of her things. His house looked shabby and dusty and full of ugly unwanted bits. It wasn’t unlike his life.
Jo rang Adam from the car, just before she turned into Colin’s drive. She told him she had left Matthew and had nowhere to go. She found herself sobbing real tears, and when she told him that she was sorry for everything and loved him, truly loved him, she meant it.
He told her she had no idea what love was and he put the phone down.